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LECTURES 


EDUCATION. 


BY  HORACE  MANN, 

SeCRlilTARY    OF    THE    MASSAC^pSETTS   BOARD    OF    EDDCATIOH. 


'/ 


BOSTON: 

IDE  &   DUTTON 
1865. 


l-^* 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1845 

BY   HORACE   MANN, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachuaett*. 


EDUCATHON  DEFT* 


Stereotjn^ed  by 
GEORGE   A.   CURTIS; 

BMOIiAMB   TTPK   AND   8TBRB0TTP*  FOOWDRT. 


TO 

HIS  EXCELLENCY 

GEORGE    N.    BRIGGS, 

GOVERNOR 

OF   THE   COMMOirWEALTH   OF   M^SACHUSETTS, 

AND  ex  officio 
CHAIRMAN  OF  THE  BOARD  OF  EDUCATION, 

AND    TO 

THE  OTHER  MEMBERS  OF  SAID  BOARD, 

THIS    VOLUME, 
PREPARED   AT    THEIR    REQUEST, 

IS  GRATEFULLY  DEDICATED 

BT 

THE  AUTHOR. 


/ 


54!72S 


CONTENTS. 


LECTURE  I. 

PAGB 

Mbans  and  Objects  of  Common  School  Edu- 
cation,        11 

LECTURE  IL 

Special  Peeparation,  a  Pre-requisite  to  Teach- 

•iNG, 63 

LECTURE   in. 

The  Necessity  of  Education  in  a  Republican 

Government, 117 

LECTURE  IV.  / 

What  God  does,  and  what  He  leaves  for  Man 

to  do,  in  the  work  of  education,       •         •     165 

LECTURE  V. 

An  Historical  View  of  Education;    showing 

ITS  Dignity  and  its  Degradation,       .         .     216 

LECTURE  VI. 
On  District  School  Libraries,  .        .    269 

LECTURE  VIL 
On  School  Punishments,  .  .    303 

1* 


PREFACE. 

The  Act  creating  the  Massachusetts  Board  of 
Education  was  passed  April  20,  1837.  In  June 
following  the  Board  was  organized,  and  its  Secre- 
tary chosen.  The  duties  of  the  Secretary,  as 
expressed  in  the  Act,  are,  to  "  collect  information 
of  the  actual  condition  and  efficiency  of  the  Com- 
mon Schools,  and  other  means  of  popular  educa- 
tion ;  and  to  diffuse  as  widely  as  possible,  through- 
out every  part  of  the  Commonwealth,  information 
of  the  most  approved  and  successful  methods  of 
arranging  the  studies,  and  conducting  the  educa- 
tion of  the  young,  to  the  end,  that  all  children  in 
this  Commonwealth,  who  depend  upon  Common 
Schools  for  instruction,  may  have  the  best  edu-^ 
cation  which  those  schools  can  be  made  to  impart. 

The  Board,  immediately  after  its  organization, 
issued  an  "Address  to  the  Public,"  inviting  the 
friends  of  education  to  assemble  in  convention,  in 
their  respective  counties,  in  the  ensuing  autumn  ; 
and  the  Secretary  was  requested  to  be  present  at 
those  conventions,  both  for  the  purpose  of  obtain- 
ing information  in  regard  to  the  condition  of  the 
schools,  and  of  explaining  to  the  public  what  were 
supposed  to  be  the  leading  motives  and  objects  of 
the  Legislature  in  creating  the  Board. 

The  author  of  the  following  Lectures  was  a 
member  of  the  Legislature  when  the  act  establish- 
ing the  Board  was  passed  ;  and  he  was  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  general  views  of  its  projectors 
and  advocates.     At  that  time,  however,  the  idea 


VIU 

never  entered  his  mind  that  he  should  be  even  a 
candidate  for  the  Secretaryship;  but  when  the 
Board  was  organized,  and  the  station  was  oiFered 
him,  he  was  induced  to  accept  it ; — not  so  much 
from  any  supposed  fitness  for  the  ofiice,  as  from 
the  congeniaHty  of  its  duties  with  all  his  tastes 
and  predilections,  and  because  he  thought  that 
whatever  of  industry,  or  of  capacity  for  useful- 
ness., he  might  possess,  could  be  exerted  more  ben- 
eficially to  his  fellow-men  in  this  situation  than 
in  any  other.  On  accepting  the  appointment, 
therefore,  it  became  his  duty  to  meet  the  county 
conventions,  which  were  held  throughout  the 
State,  in  the  autumn  of  1837 ;  and  the  first  of  the 
following  lectures  was  prepared  for  those  occasions. 
Its  object  was  to  sketch  a  rapid  outline  of  deficien- 
cies to  be  supplied,  and  of  objects  to  be  pursued, 
in  relation  to  the  Common  School  system  of  Mas- 
sachusetts. 

In  the  session  of  1838,  the  Legislature  pro- 
vided that  a  Common  School  convention  should 
be  held,  each  year,  in  each  county  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, and  that  the  Secretary  should  be 
present  at  every  convention.  This  law  continued 
in  force  until  the  year  1842,  when  it  was  repealed. 
During  the  first  five  years,  therefore,  after  the 
establishment  of  the  Board,  a  Common  School 
convention  was  annually  held  in  each  county  in 
the  Commonwealth ; — and  in  some  of  the  large 
counties  two  or  more  such  conventions  were  held. 
The  Secretary  made  his  annual  circuit  through 
the  State,  and  was  present  at  them  all ;  and  the 
first  five  of  the  following  lectures  were  respect- 
ively delivered  before  the  annual  conventions. 
The  lecture  on  "District  School  Libraries"  was 
prepared  in  view  of  the  great  deficiency  of  books 
in  our  towns,  suitable  for  the  reading  gf  children  ; 
and  was  delivered  before  Teachers'  Associations, 
Lyceums,  &c.,  in  diflferent  parts  of  the  State.     In 


IX 

tlie  year  1839,  a  number  of  the  friends  of  educa- 
tion, in  Boston,  instituted  a  course  of  lectures  for 
tlie  female  teachers  in  the  city,  and  the  lecture 
on  "School  Punishments"  was  delivered  as  one  of 
that  course. 

On  almost  all  the  occasions  above  referred  to,  a 
copy  of  the  lecture  delivered  was  requested  for  the 
press  ;  but  the  inadequacy  of  the  views  presented, 
when  compared  with  the  magnitude  and  grandeur 
of  the  subject  discussed,  always  induced  the  au- 
tlior,  (except  in  regard  to  the  first  lecture,  which 
was  printed  in  1840,  in  order  to  make  known, 
more  generally,  the  objects  which  the  Board  had 
in  view,)  to  decline  a  compliance  with  the  re- 
quest. In  the  month  of  May  last,  however,  the 
Board  of  Education,  by  a  special  and  unanimous 
vote,  requested  him  to  prepare  a  volume  of  his 
Lectures  on  Education  for  the  press,  and  to  this 
request  he  has  now  acceded. 

In  preparing  this  volume,  the  author  was  led 
to  doubt  whether  he  should  retain  those  portions 
of  the  lectures  which  contained  special  and  direct 
allusions  to  the  times  and  circumstances  in  whicFf^ 
they  were  delivered ;  or  whether,  by  omitting  all 
reference  to  temporary  and  passing  events,  ho 
should  pubhsh  only  those  parts  in  which  an  at- 
tempt was  made  to  discuss  broad  and  general 
principles,  or  to  enlist  parental,  patriotic,and  relig- 
ious motives  in  behalf  of  the  cause.  He  has 
been  induced  to  adopt  the  first  part  of  the  alterna- 
tive, both  because  it  presents  the  lectures  as  they 
were  delivered,  and  because  it  gives  an  aspect  of 
practical  reform  rather  than  of  theoretic  specu- 
lation to  the  work. 

The  author  begs  leave  to  add,  that,  as  the  lec- 
tures were  designed  for  popular  and  promiscuous 
audiences,  and  pertained  to  a  cause  in  which  but 
very  little  general  interest  was  felt,  he  was  con- 
strained not  only  to  confine  himself  to  popular 


topics,  but  also  to  treat  them,  as  far  as  he  was 
able,  in  a  popular  manner.  The  more  didactic 
expositions  of  the  merits  of  the  great  cause  of 
Education,  and  some  of  the  relations  which  that 
cause  holds  to  the  interests  of  civilization  and  hu- 
man progress  he  has  endeavored  to  set  forth  in 
his  Annual  Reports ;  while  his  more  detailed  and 
specific  views,  in  regard  to  modes  and  processes 
of  instruction  and  training,  may  be  found  in  the 
volumes  of  the  Common  School  Journal.  Each 
one  of  these  three  channels  of  communication 
with  the  public,  he  has  endeavored  to  use  for  the 
exposition  of  a  particular  class  of  the  views  and 
motives,  belonging  to  the  comprehensive  subject 
of  education. 

Justice  to  himself  compels  the  author  to  add 
another  remark,  although  of  an  unpleasant  char- 
acter. Some  of  the  following  lectures  have  been 
delivered  not  only  before  different  audiences  in 
Massachusetts,  but  in  other  States ;  and,  in  sev- 
eral instances,  the  author  has  seen,  not  only  illus- 
trations and  clauses,  but  whole  sentences  taken 
bodily  from  the  lectures,  and  transferred  to  works 
subsequently  published.  Should  cases  of  this  kind 
be  noticed  by  the  reader,  he  is  requested  to 
compare  dates  before  deciding  the  question  of 
plagiarism. 

BoBTON,  March,  1845. 


LECTURE  I. 

MEANS  AND  OBJECTS  OF  COMMON  SCHOOL  EDU- 
CATION. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Convention  : 

In  pursuance  of  notice,  contained  in  a  circular 
letter,  lately  addressed  to  the  school  committees 
and  friends  of  Education,  in  this  county,  I  now 
appear  before  you,  as  the  Secretary  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts Board  of  Education.  That  Board  was 
constituted  by  an  Act  of  the  Legislature,  passed 
April  20,  1837.  It  consists  of  the  Governor  and 
Lieutenant  Governor  of  the  Commonwealth,  for  . 
the  time  being, — who  are  members  ex  officiis, — 
and  of  eight  other  gentlemen,  appointed  by  the 
Executive,  with  the  advice  and  consent  of  the 
Council.  The  object  of  the  Board  is,  by  exten- 
sive correspondence,  by  personal  interviews,  by 
the  development  and  discussion  of  principles,  to 
collect  such  information,  on  the  great  subject  of 
Education,  as  now  lies  scattered,  buried  and  dor- 
mant ;  and  after  digesting,  and,  as  far  as  possible, 
systematizing  and  perfecting  it,  to  send  it  forth 
again  to  the  extremest  borders  of  the  State ; — so 
that  all  improvements  which  are  local,  may  be 
enlarged  into  universal ;  that  what  is  now  transi- 
tory and  evanescent,  na^  be  established  in  per- 
manency; and  that  correct  views,  on  this  all- 
important  subject,  may  be  multiplied  by  the 
number  of  minds  capable  of  understanding  them. 


To  accomplish  the  object  of  their  creation, 
h  »wever,  the  Board  are  clothed  with  no  power, 
either  restraining  or  directory.  If  they  know  of 
better  modes  of  education,  they  have  no  authority 
to  enforce  their  adoption.  Nor  have  they  any 
funds  at  their  disposal.  Even  the  services  of  the 
members  are  gratuitously  rendered.  Without 
authority,  then,  to  command,  and  without  money 
to  remunerate  or  reward,  their  only  resources,  the 
only  sinews  of  their  strength,  are,  their  power  of 
appealing  to  an  enlightened  community,  to  rally 
for  the  promotion  of  its  dearest  interests. 

Unless,  therefore,  the  friends  of  Education,  in 
different  parts  of  the  State,  shall  proffer  their  cor- 
dial and  strenuous  cooperation,  it  is  obvious,  that 
the  great  purposes,  for  which  the  Board  was  con- 
stituted, can  never  be  accomplished.  Some  per- 
sons, indeed,  have  suggested,  that  the  Secretary 
of  the  Board  should  visit  the  schools,  individually, 
and  impart  such  counsel  and  encouragement  as 
he  might  be  able  to  do  ; — not  reflecting  that  such 
is  their  number  and  the  shortness  of  the  time 
during  which  they  are  kept,  that,  if  he  were  to 
allow  himself  but  one  day  for  each  school,  to 
make  specific  examinations  and  to  give  detailed 
instructions,  it  would  occupy  something  more 
than  sixteen  years  to  complete  the  circuit ; — 
while  the  period,  between. the  ages  of  four  and 
sixteen,  during  which  our  children  usually  attend 
school,  is  but  twelve  years;  so  that,  before  the 
Secretary  could  come  round  upon  his  track  again, 
one  entire  generation  of  scholars  would  have 
passed  away,  and  one  third  of  another.  At  his 
quickest  speed,  he  would  lose  sight  of  one  quar- 
ter of  all  the  children  in  the  State.  The  Board, 
therefore,  have  no  voice-lhey  have  no  organ,  by 
which  they  can  make  themselves  heard,  in  the 
distant  villages  and  hamlets  of  this  land,  where 


13 

those  juvenile  habits  are  now  forming,  where 
those  processes  of  thought  and  feeling  are,  now, 
to-day,  maturing,  which,  some  twenty  or  thirty 
years  hence,  will  find  an  arm,  and  become  resist- 
less might,  and  will  uphold,  or  rend  asunder,  our 
social  fabric.  The  Board  may, — I  trust  they  will, 
— be  able  to  collect  light  and  to  radiate  it;  but 
upon  the  people,  upon  the  people^  will  still  rest  the 
great  and  inspiring  duty  of  prescribing  to  the  next 
generation  what  their  fortunes  shall  be,  by  deter- 
mining in  what  manner  they  shall  be  educated. 
For  it  is  the  ancestors  of  a  people,  who  prepare 
and  predetermine  all  the  great  events  in  that  peo- 
ple's history; — their  posterity  only  collect  and 
read  them.  No  just  judge  will  ever  decide  upon 
the  moral  responsibility  of  an  individual,  without 
first  ascertaining  what  kind  of  parents  he  had  ; — 
nor  will  any  just  historian  ever  decide  upon  the 
honor  or  the  infamy  of  a  people,  without  placing 
the  character  of  its  ancestors  in  the  judgment-bal- 
ance. If  the  system  of  national  instruction,  de- 
vised and  commenced  by  Charlemagne,  had  been 
continued,  it  would  have  changed  the  history  ofy 
the  French  people.  Such  an  event  as  the  French 
Revolution  never  would  have  happened  with  free 
schools;  any  more  than  the  American  Revolution 
would  have  happened  without  them.  The  mobs, 
the  riots,  the  burnings,  the  lynchings,  perpetrated 
by  the  men  of  the  present  day,  are  perpetrated, 
because  of  their  vicious  or  defective  education, 
when  children.  We  see,  and  feel,  the  havoc  and 
the  ravage  of  their  tiger-passions,  now,  when 
they  are  full  grown ;  but  it  was  years  ago  that 
they  were  whelped  and  suckled.  And  so,  too,  if 
we  are  derelict  from  our  duty,  in  this  matter,  our 
children,  in  their  turn,  will  sufter.  If  we  permit 
the  vulture's  eggs  to  be  incubated  and  hatched,  it 
will  then  be  too  late  to  take  care  of  the  lambs. 
2 


14 

Some  eulogize  our  system  of  Popular  Educa- 
tion, as  though  worthy  to  be  universally  admired 
and  imitated.  Others  pronounce  it  circumscribed 
in  its  action,  and  feeble,  even  where  it  acts.  Let 
us  waste  no  time  in  composing  this  strife.  If 
good,  let  us  improve  it ;  if  bad,  let  us  reform  it. 
It  is  of  human  institutions,  as  of  men, — ^not  any 
one  is  so  good  that  it  cannot  be  made  better ;  nor 
so  bad,  that  it  may  not  become  worse.  Our  sys- 
tem of  education  is  not  to  be  compared  with  those 
of  other  states  or  countries,  merely  to  determine 
whether  it  may  be  a  little  more  or  a  little  less  per- 
fect than  they ;  but  it  is  to  be  contrasted  with  our 
highest  ideas  of  perfection  itself,  and  then  the 
pain  of  the  contrast  to  be  assuaged,  by  improving 
It,  forthwith  and  continually.  The  love  of  excel- 
lence looks  ever  upward  towards  a  higher  stand- 
ard ;  it  is  unimproving  pride  and  arrogance  only, 
that  are  satisfied  with  being  superior  to  a  lower. 
No  community  should  rest  contented  with  being 
superior  to  other  communities,  while  it  is  inferior 
to  its  own  capabilities.  And  such  are  the  benefi- 
cent ordinations  of  Providence,  that  the  very 
thought  of  improving  is  the  germination  of  im- 
provement. 

The  science  and  the  art  of  Education,  like 
every  thing  human,  depend  upon  culture,  for  ad- 
vancement. And  they  would  be  more  cultivated, 
if  the  rewards  for  attention,  and  the  penalties  for 
neglect,  were  better  understood.  When  effects 
follow  causes, — quick  as  thunder,  lightning, — 
even  infants  and  idiots  learn  to  beware ;  or  they 
act,  to  enjoy.  They  have  a  glimmer  of  reason, 
sufficient,  in  such  cases,  for  admonition,  or  im- 
pulse. Now,  in  this  world,  the  entire  succession 
of  events,  which  fills  time  and  makes  up  life, 
is  nothing  but  causes  and  effects.  These  causes 
and  effects  are  bound  and  linked  together  by  an 
adamantine  law.     And  the  Deity  has  given  us 


15 

power  over  the  effects,  by  giving  us  power  over 
the  causes.  This  power  consists  in  a  knowledge 
of  the  connection  estabUshed  between  causes  and 
effects, — enabling  us  to  foresee  the  future  conse- 
quences of  present  conduct.  If  you  show  to  me  a 
handful  of  perfect  seeds,  I  know^  that,  with  appro- 
priate culture,  those  seeds  will  produce  a  growth 
after  their  kind ;  whether  it  be  of  pulse,^  which  is 
ripened  for  human  use  in  a  month,  or  of  oaks,  whose 
lifetime  is  centuries.  So,  in  some  of  the  actions 
of  men,  consequences  follow  conduct  with  a  lock- 
step  ;  in  others,  the  effects  of  youthful  actions  first 
burst  forth  as  from  a  subterranean  current,  in  ad- 
vanced life.  In  those  great  relations  which  sub- 
sist between  different  generations, — between  an- 
cestors and  posterity, — effects  are  usually  sepa- 
rated from  their  causes,  by  long  intervals  of  time. 
The  pulsations  of  a  nation's  heart  are  to  be 
counted,  not  by  seconds,  but  by  years.  Now,  it 
is  in  this  class  of  cases,  where  there  are  long 
intervals  lying  between  our  conduct  and  its  con- 
sequences; where  one  generation  sows,  and  an- 
other generation  reaps  ; — it  is  in  this  class  of  cases,  y 
that  the  greatest  and  most  sorrowful  of  human 
errors  originate.  Yet,  even  for  these,  a  benevolent 
Creator  has  supplied  us  with  an  antidote.  He 
has  given  us  the  faculty  of  reason,  whose  especial 
office  and  function  it  is,  to  discover  the  connection 
between  causes  and  effects ;  and  thereby  to  enable 
us  so  to  regulate  the  causes  of  to-day,  as  to  predes- 
tinate the  effects  of  to-morrow.  In  the  eye  of  rea- 
son, causes  and  effects  exist  in  proximity, — in 
juxtaposition.  They  lie  side  by  side,  whatever 
length  of  time,  or  distance  of  space,  comes  in  be- 
tween them.  If  I  am  guilty  of  an  act  or  a  neg- 
lect, to-day,  which  will  certainly  cause  the  inflic- 
tion of  a  wrong,  it  matters  not  whether  that  wrong 
happens,  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  or  in  tlie 
next  century.     Whenever  or  wherever  it  happens, 


16 

it  is  mine ;  it  belongs  to  me ;  my  conscience  owns 
it,  and  no  sophistry  can  give  me  absolution.  Who 
would  think  of  acquitting  an  incendiary,  because 
the  train  which  he  had  laid  and  lighted,  first  cir- 
cuited the  globe  before  it  reached  and  consumed 
his  neighbor's  dwelling?  From  the  nature  of  the 
case,  in  education,  the  effects  are  widely  separated 
from  the  causes.  They  happen  so  long  after- 
wards, that  the  reason  of  the  community  loses 
sight  of  the  connection  between  them.  It  does 
not  bring  the  cause  and  the  effect  together,  and 
lay  them,  and  look  at  them,  side  by  side. 

If,  instead  of  twenty-one  yearSj  the  course  of 
Nature  allowed  but  twenty-one  days^  to  rear  an 
infant  to  the  full  stature  of  manhood,  and  to  sow 
in  his  bosom,  the  seeds  of  unbounded  happiness 
or  of  unspeakable  misery, — 1  suppose,  in  that 
case,  the  merchant  would  abandon  his  bargains, 
and  the  farmer  would  leave  the  in-gathering  of 
his  harvest,  and  even  the  drunkard  would  hie 
homeward  from  the  midst  of  his  revel,  and  that 
twenty-one  days  would  be  spent,  without  much 
sleep,  and  with  many  prayers.  And  yet,  it  can- 
not be  denied,  that  the  consequences  of  a  vicious 
education,  inflicted  upon  a  child,  are  now  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  they  would  be,  if,  at  the  end 
of  twenty-one  days  after  an  infant's  birth,  his 
tongue  were  already  roughened  with  oaths  and 
blasphemy;  or  he  were  seen  skulking  through 
society,  obtaining  credit  upon  false  pretences,  or 
with  rolls  of  counterfeit  bills  in  his  pocket;  or 
were  already  expiating  his  offences  in  the  bond- 
age and  infamy  of  a  prison.  And  the  conse- 
quences of  a  virtuous  education,  at  the  end  of 
twenty-one  years,  are  now  precisely  the  same  as 
they  would  be,  if,  at  the  end  of  twenty-one  days 
after  his  birth,  the  infant  had  risen  from  his  cra- 
dle into  the  majestic  form  of  manhood,  and  were 
possessed  of  all   those  qualities  and  attributes, 


17 

which  a  being  created  in  the  image  of  God  ought 
to  have  ; — with  a  power  of  fifty  years  of  beneficent 
labor  compacted  into  his  frame ; — with  nerves  of 
sympathy,  reaching  out  from  his  own  heart  and 
twining  around  the  heart  of  society,  so  that  the 
great  social  wants  of  men  should  be  a  part  of  his 
consciousness ; — and  with  a  mind  able  to  perceive 
what  is  right,  prompt  to  defend  it,  or,  if  need  be, 
to  die  for  it.  It  ought  to  be  understood,  that  none 
of  these  consequences  become  any  the  less  certain, 
because  they  are  more  remote.  It  ought  to  be 
universally  understood  and  intimately  felt,  that, 
in  regard  to  children,  all  precept  and  example; 
all  kindness  and  harshness ;  all  rebuke  and  com- 
mendation ;  all  forms,  indeed,  of  direct  or  indirect 
education,  afiect  mental  growth,  just  as  dew,  and 
sun,  and  shower,  or  untimely  frost,  affect  vegeta- 
ble growth.  Their  influences  are  integrated  and 
made  one  with  the  soul.  They  enter  into  spirit- 
ual combination  with  it,  never  afterwards  to  be 
wholly  decompounded.  They  are  like  the  daily 
food  eaten  by  wild  game, — so  pungent  and  sapo- 
rific  in  its  nature,  that  it  flavors  every  fibre  of  / 
their  flesh,  and  colors  every  bone  in  their  body. 
Indeed,  so  pervading  and  enduring  is  the  effect 
of  education  upon  the  youthful  soul,  that  it  may 
well  be  compared  to  a  certain  species  of  writing- 
ink,  whose  color,  at  first,  is  scarcely  perceptible, 
but  which  penetrates  deeper  and  grows  blacker 
by  age,  until,  if  you  consume  the  scroll  over  a 
coal-fire,  the  character  will  still  be  legible  in  the 
cinders.  It  ought  to  be  understood  and  felt,  that, 
however  it  may  be  in  a  social  or  jurisprudential 
sense,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  in  the  most  solemn 
and  dread-inspiring  sense,  that,  by  an  irrepealable 
law  of  Nature,  the  iniquities  of  the  fathers  are 
still  visited  upon  the  children,  unto  the  third  and 
fourth  generation.  Nor  do  the  children  suffer 
for  the  iniquities  only,  of  their  parents ;  they  suf- 
2* 


18 

fer  for  their  neglect  and  even  for  their  ignorance. 
Hence,  I  have  always  admired  that  law  of  the 
Icelanders,  by  which,  when  a  minor  child  commits 
an  offence,  the  courts  first  make  judicial  inquiry, 
whether  his  parents  have  given  him  a  good  edu- 
cation ;  and,  if  it  be  proved  they  have  not,  the 
child  is  acquitted  and  the  parents  are  punished. 
In  both  the  old  Colonies  of  Plymouth,  and  of 
Massachusetts  Bay,  if  a  child,  over  sixteen,  and 
under  twenty-one  years  of  age,  committed  a  cer- 
tain capital  offence  against  father  or  mother,  he 
was  allowed  to  arrest  judgment  of  death  upon 
himself,  by  showing  that  his  parents,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  law,  "had  been  very  unchristianly 
negligent  in  his  education." 

How,  then,  are  the  purposes  of  education  to  be 
accomplished  7  However  other  worlds  may  be, 
this  world  of  ours  is  evidently  constructed  on  the 
plan  of  producing  ends  by  using  means.  Even 
the  Deity,  with  his  Omniscience  and  his  Omnipo- 
tence, carries  forward  our  system,  by  processes  so 
minute,  and  movements  so  subtile,  as  generally 
to  elude  our  keenest  inspection.  He  might  speak 
all  the  harvests  of  the  earth,  and  all  the  races  of 
animals  and  of  men,  into  full-formed  existence,  at 
a  word ;  and  yet  the  tree  is  elaborated  from  the 
kernel,  and  the  wing  from  the  chrysalis,  by  a 
series  of  processes,  which  occupies  years,  and 
sometimes  centuries,  for  its  completion.  Educa- 
tion, more  than  any  thing  else,  demands  not  only 
a  scientific  acquaintance  with  mental  laws,  but 
the  nicest  art  in  the  detail  and  the  application  of 
means,  for  its  successful  prosecution ;  because  in- 
fluences, imperceptible  in  childhood,  work  out 
more  and  more  broadly  into  beauty  or  deformity, 
in  after-life.  No  unskilful  hand  should  ever  play 
upon  a  harp,  where  the  tones  are  left,  forever,  in 
the  strings. 

In  the  first  place,  the  best  methods  should  be 


19 

well  ascertained;  in  the  second,  they  should  be 
universally  diffused.  In  this  Commonwealth, 
there  are  about  three  thousand  Public  Schools, 
in  all  of  which  the  rudiments  of  knowledge  are 
taught.  These  schools,  at  the  present  time,  are 
so  many  distinct,  independent  communities ;  each 
being  governed  by  its  own  habits,  traditions,  and 
local  customs.  There  is  no  common,  superin- 
tending power  over  them;  there  is  no  bond  of 
brotherhood  or  family  between  them.  They  are 
strangers  and  aliens  to  each  other.  The  teachers 
are,  as  it  were,  imbedded,  each  in  his  own  school 
district;  and  they  are  yet  to  be  excavated  and 
brought  together,  and  to  be  established,  each  as  a 
polished  pillar  of  a  holy  temple.  As  the  system 
is  now  administered,  if  any  improvement  in  prin- 
ciples or  modes  of  teaching  is  discovered  by  talent 
or  accident,  in  one  school, — instead  of  being  pub- 
lished to  the  world,  it  dies  with  the  discoverer. 
No  means  exist  for  multiplying  new  truths,  or 
even  for  preserving  old  ones.  A  gentleman,  fill- 
ing one  of  the  highest  civil  offices  in  this  Com- 
monwealth,— a  resident  in  one  of  the  oldest  coun-^ 
ties  and  in  one  of  the  largest  towns  in  the  State, — 
a  sincere  friend  of  the  cause  of  education, — re- 
cently put  into  my  hands  a  printed  report,  drawn 
up  by  a  clergyman  of  high  repute,  which  de- 
scribed, as  was  supposed,  an  important  improve- 
ment in  relation  to  our  Common  Schools,  and 
earnestly  enjoined  its  general  adoption ;  when  it 
happened  to  be  within  my  own  knowledge,  that 
the  supposed  new  discovery  had  been  in  success- 
ful operation  for  sixteen  years,  in  a  town  but  little 
more  than  sixteen  miles  distant.  Now,  in  other 
things,  we  act  otherwise.  If  a  manufacturer  dis- 
covers a  new  combination  of  wheels,  or  a  new 
mode  of  applying  water  or  steam-power,  by  which 
stock  can  be  economized,  or  the  value  of  fabrics 
enhanced  ten  per  cent.,  the  information  flies  over 


20 

the  country  at  once ;  the  old  machinery  is  dis- 
carded, the  new  is  substituted.  Nay,  it  is  difficult 
for  an  inventor  to  preserve  the  secret  of  his  inven- 
tion, until  he  can  secure  it  by  letters-patent.  Our 
mechanics  seem  to  possess  a  sort  of  keen,  grey- 
hound faculty,  by  which  they  can  scent  an  im- 
provement afar  off.  They  will  sometimes  go,  in 
disguise,  to  the  inventor,  and  offer  themselves  as 
workmen;  and  instances  have  been  known  of 
their  breaking  into  his  workshop,  by  night,  and 
purloining  the  invention.  And  hence  that  pro- 
gress in  the  mechanic  arts,  which  has  given  a 
name  to  the  age  in  which  we  live,  and  made  it  a 
common  wonder.  Improvements  in  useful,  and 
often  in  useless,  arts,  command  solid  prices, — 
twenty,  fifty,  or  even  a  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars,— while  improvements  in  education,  in  the 
means  of  obtaining  new  guaranties  for  the  per- 
manence of  all  we  hold  dear,  and  for  making 
our  children  and  our  children's  children  wiser 
and  happier, — these  are  scarcely  topics  of  con- 
versation or  inquiry.  Do  we  not  need,  then, 
some  new  and  living  institution,  some  animate 
organization,  which  shall  at  least  embody  and 
diffuse  all  that  is  now  known  on  this  subject,  and 
thereby  save,  every  year,  hundreds  of  children 
from  being  sacrificed  to  experiments  which  have 
been  a  hundred  times  exploded  ? 

Before  noticing  some  particulars,  in  which  a 
common  channel  for  receiving  and  for  disseminat- 
ing information,  may  subserve  the  prosperity  of  our 
Common  Schools,  allow  me  to  premise,  that  there 
is  one  rule,  which,  in  all  places,  and  in  all  forms  of 
education,  should  be  held  as  primary,  paramount, 
and,  as  far  as  possible,  exclusive.  Acquirement 
and  pleasure  should  go  hand  in  hand.  They 
should  never  part  company.  The  pleasure  of 
acquiring  should  be  the  incitement  to  acquire.  A 
child  is  wholly  incapable  of  appreciating  the  ulti- 


21 

mate  value  or  uses  of  knowledge.  In  its  early 
beginnings,  the  motive  of  general,  future  utility 
will  be  urged  in  vain.  Tell  an  abecedarian,  as 
an  inducement  to  learn  his  letters,  of  the  sublim- 
ities of  poetry  and  eloquence,  that  may  be  wrought 
out  of  the  alphabet ;  and  to  him  it  is  not  so  good 
as  moonshine.  Let  me  ask  any  man,  whether 
he  ever  had,  when  a  child,  any  just  conception  of 
the  uses,  to  which  he  is  now,  as  a  man,  daily 
applying  his  knowledge.  How  vain  is  it,  then, 
to  urge  upon  a  child,  as  a  motive  to  study,  that 
which  he  cannot  possibly  understand !  Nor  is 
the  motive  of  fear  preferable.  Fear  is  one  of  the 
most  debasing  and  dementalizing  of  all  the  pas- 
sions. The  sentiment  of  fear  was  given  us,  that 
it  might  be  roused  into  action,  by  whatever  should 
be  shunned,  scorned,  abhorred.  The  emotion 
should  never  be  associated  with  what  is  to  be 
desired,  toiled  for,  and  loved.  If  a  child  appe- 
tizes  his  books,  then,  lesson-getting  is  free  labor. 
If  he  revolts  at  them,  then,  it  is  slave-labor.  Less 
is  done,  and  the  little  is  not  so  well  done.  Nature 
has  implanted  a  feeling  of  curiosity  in  the  breast  / 
of  every  child,  as  if  to  make  herself  certain  of 
his  activity  and  progress.  The  desire  of  learning 
alternates  with  the  desire  of  food ; — the  mental 
with  the  bodily  appetite.  The  former  is  even 
more  craving  and  exigent,  in  its  nature,  than  the 
latter,  and  acts  longer  without  satiety.  Men  sit 
with  folded  arms,  even  while  they  are  surrounded 
by  objects  of  which  they  know  nothing.  Who 
ever  saw  that  done  by  a  child?  But  we  cloy, 
disgust,  half-extirpate,  this  appetite  for  knowl- 
edge, and  then  deny  its  existence.  Mark  a  child, 
when  a  clear,  well-defined,  vivid  conception  seizes 
it.  The  whole  nervous  tissue  vibrates.  Every 
muscle  leaps.  Every  joint  plays.  The  face 
becomes  auroral.  The  spirit  flashes  through  the 
body,  like  lightning  through  a  cloud.     Tell  a 


22 

child  the  simplest  story,  which  is  adapted  to  his 
present  state  of  mental  advancement,  and  there- 
fore intelligible, — and  he  will  forget  sleep,  leave 
food  untasted,  nor  would  he  be  enticed  from  hear- 
ing it,  though  you  should  give  him  for  playthings, 
shining  fragments  broken  off  from  the  sun.  Ob- 
serve the  blind,  and  the  deaf  and  dumb.  So  strong 
is  their  inborn  desire  for  knowledge, — such  are  the 
amazing  attractive  forces  of  their  minds  for  it, — 
that,  although  those  natural  inlets,  the  eye  and 
the  ear,  are  closed,  yet  they  will  draw  it  inward, 
through  the  solid  walls  and  encasements  of  the 
body.  If  the  eye  be  curtained  with  darkness,  it 
will  enter  through  the  ear.  If  the  ear  be  closed 
in  silence,  it  will  ascend  along  the  nerves  of  touch. 
Every  new  idea,  that  enters  into  the  presence  of 
the  sovereign  mind,  carries  offerings  of  delight 
with  it,  to  make  its  coming  welcome.  Indeed, 
Qi;ir^  Maker jcireated  us  ia^blank  ignorance^  for  the 
•v^jqz^^piij:gose^of_giyirig3s_^i£_^bo^^  endless 

pl^a^ure_^MeaTriing^4i^w.^t^^  ;  and  the  true 
paiiiiOTTfiehuman  intellect  leads  onward  and 
upward  from  ignorance  towards  omniscience, — 
ascending  by  an  infinity  of  steps,  each  novel  and 
delightful. 

The  voice  of  Nature,  therefore,  forbids  the  in- 
fliction of  annoyance,  discomfort,  pain,  upon  a 
child,  while  engaged  in  study.  If  he  actually 
suffers  from  position,  or  heat,  or  cold,  or  fear,  not 
only  is  a  portion  of  the  energy  of  his  mind  with- 
drawn from  his  lesson, — all  of  which  should  be 
concentrated  upon  it ;  but,  at  that  undiscriniinat- 
ing  age,  the  pain  blends  itself  with  the  study, 
makes  part  of  the  remembrance  of  it,  and  thus 
curiosity  and  the  love  of  learning  are  deadened, 
or  turned  away  towards  vicious  objects.  This  is 
the  philosophy  of  children's  hating  study.  We 
insulate  them  by  fear ;  we  touch  them  with  non- 
conductors; and  then,  because  they  emit  no  spark, 


23 

we  gravdy  aver  that  they  are  non-electric  bodies. 
If  possible,  pleasure  should  be  made  to  flow  like 
a  sweet  atmosphere  around  the  early  learner,  and 
pain  be  kept  beyond  the  association  of  ideas. 
You  cannot  open  blossoms  with  a  northeast  storm. 
The  buds  of  the  hardiest  plants  will  wait  for  the 
genial  influences  of  the  sun,  though  they  perish, 
while  waiting. 

The  first  practical  application  of  these  truths, 
in  relation  to  our  Common  Schools,  is  to  School- 
house  Architecture, — a  subject  so  little  regarded, 
yet  so  vitally  important.  The  construction  of 
schoolhouses  involves,  not  the  love  of  study  and 
proficiency,  only,  but  health  and  length  of  life. 
I  have  the  testimony  of  many  eminent  physicians 
to  this  fact.  They  assure  me  that  it  is  within 
their  own  personal  knowledge,  that  there  is,  an- 
nually, loss  of  life,  destruction  of  health,  and  such 
anatomical  distortion  as  renders  life  hardly  worth 
possessing,  growing  out  of  the  bad  construction  of 
our  schoolhouses.  Nor  is  this  evil  confined  to  a 
few  of  them,  only-  It  is  a  very  general  calamity. 
I  have  seen  many  schoolhouses,  in  central  districts 
of  rich  and  populous  towns,  where  each  seat 
connected  with  a  desk,  consisted  only  of  an  up- 
right post  or  pedestal,  jutting  up  out  of  the  floor, 
the  upper  end  of  which  was  only  about  eight  or 
ten  inches  square,  without  side-arms  or  back- 
board ;  and  some  of  them  so  high  that  the  feet  of 
the  children  in  vain  sought  after  the  floor.  They 
were  beyond  soundings.  Yet,  on  the  hard  top 
of  these  stumps,  the  masters  and  misses  of  the 
school  must  balance  themselves,  as  well  as  they 
can,  for  six  hours  in  a  day.  All  attempts  to  pre- 
serve silence  in  such  a  house  arc  not  only  vain, 
but  cruel.  Nothing  but  absolute  empalement  could 
keep  a  live  child  still,  on  such  a  scat;  and  you 
would  hardly  think  him  worth  living,  if  it  could. 
The  pupils  will  resort  to  every  possible  bodily 


/ 


24 

evolution  for  relief;  and,  after  all,  though  they 
may  change  the  place^  they  keep  the  pain.  I  have 
good  reasons  for  remembering  one  of  another 
class  of  schoolhouses,  which  the  scientific  would 
probably  call  the  sixth  order  of  architecture, — the 
wicker-work  order,  summer-houses  for  winter  res- 
idence,— where  there  never  was  a  severely  cold 
day,  without  the  ink's  freezing  in  the  pens  of  the 
scholars  while  they  were  writing;  and  the  teacher 
was  literally  obliged  to  compromise  between  the 
sufferings  of  those  who  were  exposed  to  the  cold 
of  the  windows  and  those  exposed  to  the  heat  of 
the  fire,  by  not  raising  the  thermometer  of  the  lat- 
ter above  ninety  degrees,  until  that  of  the  former 
fell  below  thirty.  A  part  of  the  children  suffered 
the  Arctic  cold  of  Captains  Ross  and  Parry,  and  a 
part,  the  torrid  heat  of  the  Landers,  without,  in 
either  case,  winning  the  honors  of  a  discoverer. 
It  was  an  excellent  place  for  the  teacher  to  illus- 
trate one  of  the  facts  in  geography ;  for  five  steps 
would  have  carried  him  through  the  five  zones. 
Just  before  my  present  circuit,  I  passed  a  school- 
house,  the  roof  of  which,  on  one  side,  was  trough- 
like; and  down  towards  the  eaves  there  was  a 
large  hole ;  so  that  the  whole  operated  like  a  tun- 
nel to  catch  all  the  rain  and  pour  it  into  the 
schoolroom.  At  first,  I  did  not  know  but  it  might 
be  some  apparatus  designed  to  explain  the  Deluge. 
I  called  and  inquired  of  the  mistress,  if  she  and 
her  little  ones  were  not  sometimes  drowned  out. 
She  said  she  should  be,  only  that  the  floor  leaked 
as  badly  as  the  roof,  and  drained  off  the  water. 
And  yet  a  healthful,  comfortable  schoolhouse 
can  be  erected  as  cheaply  as  one,  which,  judging 
from  its  construction,  you  would  say,  had  been 
dedicated  to  the  evil  genius  of  deformity  and 
suffering. 

There  is  another  evil  in  the  construction  of  our 
schoolhouses,  whose  immediate  consequences  are 


25 

not  so  bad,  though  their  remote  ones  are  indefi- 
nitely worse.  No  fact  is  now  better  established, 
than  that  a  man  cannot  live,  without  a  supply  of 
about  a  gallon  of  fresh  air,  every  minute;  nor 
enjoy  good  health,  indeed,  without  much  more. 
The  common  air,  as  is  now  well  known,  is  mainly 
composed  of  two  ingredients,  one  only  of  which 
can  sustain  life.  The  action  of  the  lungs  upon 
the  vital  portion  of  the  air,  changes  its  very  nature, 
converting  it  from  a  life-sustaining  to  a  life-de- 
stroying element.  As  we  inhale  a  portion  of  the 
atmosphere,  it  is  healthful ; — the  same  portion,  as 
we  exhale  it,  is  poisonous.  Hence,  ventilation  in 
rooms,  especially  where  large  numbers  are  col- 
lected, is  a  condition  of  health  and  life.  Privation 
admits  of  no  excuse.  To  deprive  a  child  of  com- 
fortable clothes,  or  wholesome  food,  or  fuel,  may 
sometimes,  possibly,  be  palliated.  These  cost 
money,  and  often  draw  hardly  upon  the  scanty 
resources  of  the  poor.  But  what  shall  vi/^e  say  of 
stinting  and  starving  a  child,  in  regard  to  this 
prime  necessary  of  life,  fresh  air  ? — of  holding  his 
mouth,  as  it  were,  lest  he  should  obtain  a  sufR-  y 
ciency  of  that  vital  element,  which  God,  in  His 
munificence,  has  poured  out,  a  hundred  miles 
deep,  all  around  the  globe?  Of  productions, 
reared  or  transported  by  human  toil,  there  may 
be  a  dearth.  At  any  rate,  frugality  in  such  things 
is  commendable.  But  to  put  a  child  on  short 
allowances  out  of  this  sky-full  of  air,  is  enough 
to  make  a  miser  weep.  It  is  as  absurd,  as  it 
would  have  been  for  Noah,  while  the  torrents  of 
rain  were  still  descending,  to  have  put  his  family 
upon  short  allowances  of  water.  This  vast  quan- 
tity of  air  was  given  us  to  supersede  the  necessity 
of  ever  using  it  at  second-hand.  Heaven  has 
ordained  this  matter  with  adorable  wisdom.  That 
very  portion  of  the  air  which  we  turn  into  poison, 
by  respiring  it,  becomes  the  aliment  of  vegetk- 
3 


25 

lion.  What  is  death  to  us,  is  life  to  all  verdure 
and  flowerage.  And  again,  vegetation  reacts  the 
ingredient  which  is  life  to  us.  Thus  the  equili- 
brium is  forever  restored;  or  rather,  it  is  never 
destroyed.  In  this  perpetual  circuit,  the  atmos- 
phere is  forever  renovated^  and  made  the  sus- 
tainer  of  life,  both  for  the  animal  and  vegetable 
worlds. 

A  simple  contrivance  for  ventilating  the  school- 
room, unattended  with  any  perceptible  expense, 
would  rescue  children  from  this  fatal,  though  un- 
seen evil.  It  is  an  indisputable  fact,  that,  for 
years  past,  far  more  attention  has  been  paid,  in 
this  respect,  to  the  construction  of  jails  and  pris- 
ons, than  to  that  of  schoolhouses.  Yet,  why 
should  we  treat  our  felons  better  than  our  chil- 
dren? I  have  observed  in  all  our  cities  and 
populous  towns,  that,  wherever  stables  have  been 
recently  built,  provision  has  been  made  for  their 
ventilation.  This  is  encouraging,  for  I  hope  the 
children's  turn  will  come,  when  gentlemen  shall 
have  taken  care  of  their  horses.  I  implore  phy- 
sicians to  act  upon  this  evil.  Let  it  be  removed, 
extirpated,  cut  off,  surgically. 

I  cannot  here  stop  to  give  even  an  index  of  the 
advantages  of  an  agreeable  site  for  a  schoolhouse ; 
of  attractive,  external  appearance;  of  internal 
finish,  neatness,  and  adaptation ;  nor  of  the  still 
more  important  subject  of  having  two  rooms  for 
all  large  schools, — both  on  the  same  floor,  or  one 
over  the  other, — so  as  to  allow  a  separation  of  the 
large  from  the  small  scholars,  for  the  purpose  of 
placing  the  latter,  at  least,  under  the  care  of  a 
female  teacher.  Each  of  these  topics,  and  espe- 
cially the  last,  is  worthy  of  a  separate  essay. 
Allow  me,  however,  to  remark,  in  passing,  that  I 
regard  it  as  one  of  the  clearest  ordinances  of  nat- 
ure, that  woman  is  the  appointed  guide  and 
guardian  of  children  of  a  tender  age.     And  she 


27 

does  not  forego,  but,  in  the  eye  of  prophetic  vision, 
she  anticipates  and  makes  her  own,  all  the  im- 
mortal honors  of  the  academy,  the  forum,  and  the 
senate,  when  she  lays  their  deep  foundations,  by 
training  up  children  in  the  way  they  should  go. 

A  great  mischief, — I  use  the  word  mischiefs 
because  it  implies  a  certain  degree  of  wickedness, 
— a  great  mischief  is  suffered  in  the  diversity 
and  multiplicity  of  our  school  books.  Not  more 
than  twenty  or  thirty  different  kinds  of  books, 
exclusive  of  a  school  library,  are  needed  in  our 
Common  Schools ;  and  yet,  though  I  should  not 
dare  state  the  fact,  if  I  had  not  personally  sought 
out  the  information  from  most  authentic  sources, 
there  are  now,  in  actual  use  in  the  schools  of  this 
State,  more  than  three  hundred  different  kinds  of 
books ;  and,  in  the  markets  of  this  and  the  neigh- 
boring States,  seeking  for  our  adoption,  I  know 
not  how  many  hundreds  more.  The  standards, 
in  spelling,  pronunciation,  and  writing;  in  rules 
of  grammar  and  in  processes  in  arithmetic,  are 
as  various  as  the  books.  Correct  language,  in 
one  place,  is  provincialism  in  another.  While  / 
we  agree  in  regarding  the  confusion  of  Babel  as 
a  judgment,  we  unite  in  confounding  it  more,  as 
though  it  were  a  blessing.  But  is  not  uniformity 
on  these  subjects  desirable  1  Are  there  not  some 
of  these  books,  to  which  all  good  judges,  on  com- 
parison, would  award  the  preference  ?  Could  they 
not  be  afforded  much  cheaper  for  the  great  mar- 
ket which  uniformity  would  open;  thus  furnishing 
better  books  at  lower  prices  ?  And  why  not  teach 
children  aright,  the  first  time?  It  is  much  harder 
to  unlearn  than  to  learn.  Why  go  through  three 
processes  instead  of  one,  by  first  learning,  then 
unlearning,  and  then  learning,  again  ?  This  mis- 
chief grew  out  of  tlie  immense  profits  formerly 
realized  from  the  manufacture  of  school  books. 
There  seems  never  to  have  been  any  difficulty  in 


SIS 

procuring  reams  of  recommendations,  because 
patrons  have  acted  under  no  responsibility.  An 
edition  once  published  must  be  sold ;  for  the  date 
has  become  almost  as  important  in  school  booksy 
as  in  almanacs.  All  manner  of  devices  are  daily 
used  to  displace  the  old  books,  and  to  foist  in  new 
ones.  The  compiler  has  a  cousin  in  the  town  of 
A,  who  will  decry  the  old  and  recommend  the 
new ;  or  a  literary  gentleman  in  the  city  of  B  has 
just  published  some  book  on  a  different  subject, 
and  is  willing  to  exchange  recommendations,  even; 
or  the  author  has  a  mechanical  friend,  in  a  neigh- 
boring town,  who  has  just  patented  some  new 
tool,  and  who  will  recommend  the  author's  book, 
if,  the  author  will  recommend  his  tool  I  Publish- 
ers often  employ  agents  to  hawk  their  books  about 
the  country ;  and  t  have  known  several  instances 
where  such  a  pedlar, — or  picaroon, — has  taken 
all  the  old  books  of  a  whole  class  in  school,  in 
exchange  for  his  new  ones,  book  for  book, — look- 
ing, of  course,  to  his  chance  of  making  sales  after 
the  book  bad  been  established  in  the  school,  for 
reimbursement  and  profits;  so  that  at  last,  the 
children  have  to  pay  for  what  they  supposed  was 
given  them.  On  this  subject,  too,  cannot  the  ma- 
ture views  of  competent  and  disinterested  men, 
residing,  respectively,  in  all  parts  of  the  State,  be 
the  means  of  effecting  a  much-needed  reform  7 

There  is  another  point,  where,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  a  united  effort  among  the  friends  of  education 
would,  in  certain  branches  of  instruction,  increase 
tenfold  the  efficiency  of  our  Common  Schools.  I 
mean,  the  use  of  some  simple  apparatus,  so  as  to 
employ  the  eye,  more  than  the  ear,  in  the  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge.  After  the  earliest  years  of 
childhood,  the  superiority  of  the  eye  over  the 
other  senses,  in  quickness,  in  precision,  in  the 
vastness  of  its  field  of  operations,  and  in  its  power 
of  penetrating,  like  a  flash,  into  any  interstices, 


29 

where  light  can  go  and  come,  is  almost  infinite. 
The  senses  of  taste,  and  smell,  and  touch,  seem 
to  be  more  the  servants  of  the  body  than  of  the 
soul ;  and,  amongst  the  infinite  variety  of  objects 
in  the  external  world,  hearing  takes  notice  of 
sounds  only.  Close  your  eyes,  and  then,  with  the 
aid  of  the  other  senses,  examine  a  watch,  an  arti- 
san's workshop,  a  manufactory,  a  ship,  a  steam- 
engine  ;  and  how  meagre  and  formless  are  all  the 
ideas  they  present  to  you.  But  the  eye  is  the 
great  thoroughfare  between  the  outward  and  ma- 
terial infinite,  and  the  inward  and  spiritual  infi- 
nite. The  mind  often  acquires,  by  a  glance  of 
the  eye,  what  volumes  of  books  and  months  of 
study  could  not  reveal  so  livingly  through  the 
ear.  Every  thing  that  comes  through  the  eye, 
too,  has  a  vividness,  a  clear  outline,  a  just  collo- 
cation of  parts, — each  in  its  proper  place, — which 
the  other  senses  can  never  communicate.  Ideas 
or  impressions  acquired  through  vision  are  long- 
lived.  Those  acquired  through  the  agency  of  the 
other  senses  often  die  young.  Hence,  the  immeas- 
urable superiority  of  this  organ  is  founded  in  / 
Nature.  There  is  a  fund  of  truth  in  the  old  say- 
ing, that  ''seeing  is  believing."  There  never 
will  be  any  such  maxim,  in  regard  to  the  other 
senses.  To  use  the  ear  instead  of  the  eye,  in  any 
case  where  the  latter  is  available,  is  as  preposter- 
ous, as  it  would  be  for  our  migratory  birds,  in 
their  overland  passage,  to  walk  rather  than  to  fly. 
We  laugh  at  the  Germans,  because  in  using  their 
oxen,  they  attach  the  load  to  the  horns,  instead 
of  the  neck ;  but  do  we  not  commit  a  much  greater 
absurdity,  in  communicating  knowledge  through 
the  narrow  fissure  of  the  ear,  which  holds  com- 
munication only  with  a  small  circle  of  things, 
and  in  that  circle,  only  with  things  that  utter  a 
sound,  instead  of  conveying  it  through  the  broad 
portals  of  the  earth  ana  heaven  surveying  eye? 
3* 


30 

Nine  tenths,- — may  I  not  say  ninety-nine  hun- 
dredths,— of  all  our  Common  School  instruction 
are  conveyed  through  the  ear ;  or, — which  is  the 
same  thing, — through  the  medium  of  written  in- 
stead of  spoken  words,  where  the  eye  has  been 
taught  to  do  the  work  of  the  ear.  In  teaching 
those  parts  of  geography  which  comprise  the 
outlines  and  natural  features  of  the  earth,  and  in 
astronomy,  the  use  of  the  globe  and  the  planetari- 
um would  reduce  the  labor  of  months  to  as  many 
hours.  Ocular  evidence,  also,  is  often  indispensa- 
ble for  correcting  the  imperfections  of  language,  as 
it  is  understood  by  a  child.  For  instance,  (and  I 
take  this  illustration  from  fact  and  not  from  imagi- 
nation,) a  child,  born  in  the  interior,  and  who  has 
never  seen  the  ocean,  is  taught  that  the  earth  is 
surrounded  by  an  elastic  medium,  called  the  at- 
mosphere. He  thereby  gets  the  idea  of  perfect  cir- 
cumfusion  and  envelopment.  In  the  next  lesson, 
he  is  taught  that  an  island  is  a  small  body  of  land 
surrounded  by  water.  If  he  has  a  quick  mind, 
he  may  get  the  idea  that  an  island  is  land,  envel- 
oped in  water,  as  the  earth  is  in  air.  Mature 
minds  always  modify  the  meaning  of  words  and 
sentences  by  numerous  rules,  of  which  a  child 
knows  nothing.  If,  when  speaking  of  the  Deity 
to  a  man  of  common  intelligence,  I  use  the  word 
''power,"  he  understands  omnipotence;  and  if  I 
use  the  same  word  when  speaking  of  an  ant,  he 
understands  that  I  mean  strength  enough  to  lift  a 
grain ; — but  a  child  would  require  explanations, 
limiting  the  meaning  of  the  word  in  the  one  case, 
and  extending  it  in  the  other. 

Other  things  being  equal,  the  pleasure  which  a 
child  enjoys,  in  studying  or  contemplating,  is  pro- 
portioned to  the  liveliness  of  his  perceptions  and 
ideas.  A  child  who  spurns  books,  will  be  attracted 
and  delighted  by  visible  objects  of  well-defined 
forms  and  striking  colors.     In  the  one  case,  he 


31 

sees  things  through  a  haze ;  in  the  other,  by  sun- 
hght.  A  contemplative  child,  whose  mind  gets 
as  vivid  images  from  reading  as  from  gazing, 
always  prefers  reading.  Although  it  is  undoubt- 
edly true,  that  taste  and  predilection,  in  regard  to 
any  subject,  will  give  brightness  and  distinctness 
to  ideas ;  yet  it  is  also  true  that  bright  and  distinct 
ideas  will  greatly  modify  tastes  and  predilections. 
Now  the  eye  may  be  employed  much  more  exten- 
sively than  it  ever  has  been,  in  giving  what  I 
will  venture  to  call  the  geography  of  ideas,  that 
is,  a  perception,  where  one  idea  bounds  on  another, 
— where  the  province  of  one  idea  ends,  and  thait 
of  the  adjacent  ideas  begins.  Could  children  be 
habituated  to  fixing  these  lines  of  demarcation,  to 
seeing  and  feeling  ideas  as  distinctly  as  though 
they  were  geometrical  solids,  they  would  then 
experience  an  insupportable  uneasiness,  whenever 
they  were  lost  in  fog-land  and  among  the  Isles  of 
the  Mist;  and  this  uneasiness  would  enforce  in- 
vestigation, survey,  and  perpetual  outlook;  and 
in  after-life,  a  power  would  exist  of  applying 
luminous  and  exact  thought  to  extensive  combi-  / 
nations  of  facts  and  principles,  and  we  should 
have  the  materials  of  philosophers,  statesmen  and 
chief-justices.  The  pleasure  which  children  en- 
joy in  visiting  our  miserable  toy-shop  collections. 
— the  dreams  of  crazy  brains,  done  into  wood  and 
pewter, — comes  mainly  from  the  vividness,  the 
oneness,  wholeness,  completeness,  of  their  percep- 
tions. The  gewgaws  do  not  give  delight,  because 
of  their  grotcsqueness,  but  in  spite  of  it.  Natu- 
ral ideas  derived  through  a  microscope,  or  from 
any  mechanism  which  would  stamp  as  deep  an 
imprint  and  glow  with  as  quick  a  vitality,  would 
give  them  far  greater  delight.  And  how  different^ 
as  to  attainments  in  useful  knowledge,  would 
children  be,  at  the  end  of  eight  or  ten  years, 


32 

accordingly  as  they  had  sought  their  gratifications 
from  one  or  the  other  of  these  sources. 

And  what  higher  dehght,  what  reward,  at  once 
so  innocent  and  so  elevating,  as  to  explain  by 
means  of  suitable  apparatus,  to  the  larger  schol- 
ars in  a  school,  the  cause  and  manner  of  an 
eclipse  of  the  sun  or  moon !  And  when  those 
impressive  phenomena  occur,  how  beautiful  to 
witness  the  manifestations  of  wonder  and  of  rev- 
erence for  God,  which  spring  spontaneously  from 
the  intelligent  observation  of  such  sublime  spec- 
tacles; instead  of  their  being  regarded  with  the 
horrible  imaginings  of  superstition,  or  with  such 
stupid  amazement,  as  belongs  only  to  the  brutes 
that  perish  !  If  a  model  were  given,  every  ingen- 
ious boy,  with  a  few  broken  window  panes  and  a 
pocket-knife,  could  make  a  prism.  With  this,  the 
rainbow,  the  changing  colors  of  the  dew-drop, 
the  gorgeous  light  of  the  sunset  sky,  could  be  ex- 
plained ;  and  thus  might  the  minds  of  children  be 
early  imbued  with  a  love  of  pure  and  beautiful 
things,  and  led  upward  towards  the  angel,  instead 
of  downward  towards  the  brute,  from  this  middle 
ground  of  humanity.  Imbue  the  young  mind 
with  these  sacred  influences,  and  they  will  forever 
constitute  a  part  of  its  moral  being;  they  will 
abide  with  it  and  tend  to  uphold  and  purify  it, 
wherever  it  may  be  cast  by  fortune,  in  this  tu- 
nmltuous  arena  of  life.  A  spirit  so  softened  and 
penetrated,  will  be 

"  Like  the  vase  in  which  roses  have  once  been  distilled ; 
You  may  break,  you  may  ruin  the  vase,  if  you  will, 
But  the  scent  of  the  roses  will  hang  round  it  still." 

At  the  last  session  of  the  Legislature,  a  law  was 
enacted,  authorizing  school  districts  to  raise  money 
for  the  purchase  of  apparatus  and  Common  School 
libraries,  for  the  use  of  the  children,  to  be  expended 
in  sums  not  exceeding  thirty  dollars,  for  the  first 


33 

year,  and  ten  dollars,  for  any  succeeding  year. 
Trifling  as  this  may  appear,  yet  I  regard  the  law 
as  hardly  second  in  importance  to  any  which  has 
been  passed  since  the  year  1647,  when  Common 
Schools  were  estabhshed.  Every  district  can  find 
some  secure  place  for  preserving  them,  until,  in 
repairing  or  rebuilding  schoolhouses,  a  separate 
apartment  can  be  provided  for  their  safe-keeping. 
As  soon  as  one  half  the  benefits  of  these  instru- 
ments of  learning  shall  be  understood,  I  doubt 
not  that  public-spirited  individuals  will  be  found, 
in  most  towns,  who  will  contribute  something  to 
the  library ;  and  artisans,  too,  who  will  feel  an 
honorable  pleasure  in  adding  something  to  the 
apparatus,  wrought  by  their  own  hands, — perhaps 
devised  by  their  own  ingenuity.  "  Build  dove- 
holes,"  says  the  proverb,  "and  the  doves  will 
come."  And  what  purer  satisfaction,  what  more 
sacred  object  of  ambition,  can  any  man  pro- 
pose to  himself,  than  to  give  the  first  impulse 
to  an  improvement,  which  will  go  on  increasing 
in  value,  forever  !  It  may  be  said,  that  mischiev- 
ous children  will  destroy  or  mutilate  whatever  is 
obtained  for  this  purpose.  But  children  will  not 
destroy  or  injure  what  gives  them  pleasure.  In- 
deed, the  love  of  malicious  mischief,  the  proneness 
to  deface  whatever  is  beautiful, — this  vile  ingre- 
dient in  the  old  Saxon  blood,  wherever  it  flows, — 
originated,  and  it  is  aggravated,  by  the  almost 
total  want,  amongst  us,  of  objects  of  beauty,  taste, 
and  elegance,  for  our  cliildren  to  grow  up  with,  to 
admire,  and  to  protect. 

The  expediency  of  having  District  School  Li- 
braries is  fast  becoming  a  necessity.  It  is  too  late 
to  stop  the  art  of  printing,  or  to  arrest  the  general 
circulation  of  books.  Reading  of  some  kind,  the 
children  will  have ;  and  the  question  is,  whether 
it  is  best,  that  this  reading  should  be  supplied  to 
them  by  the  choice  of  men,  whose  sole  object  is 


/ 


34 

gain ;  or  whether  it  shall  be  prepared  by  wise  and 
benevolent  men,  whose  object  is  to  do  good.  Prob- 
ably, not  one  child  in  ten,  in  this  State,  has  free 
access  to  any  library  of  useful  and  entertaining 
knowledge.  Where  there  are  town,  parish,  or 
social  libraries,  they  either  do  not  consist  of  suit- 
able books,  or  they  are  burdened  with  restrictions 
which  exclude  more  than  are  admitted.  A  Dis- 
trict School  Library  would  be  open  to  all  the 
children  in  the  district.  They  would  enter  it 
independently.  Wherever  there  is  genius,  the 
library  would  nourish  it.  Talents  would  not  die 
of  inaction,  for  want  of  some  sphere  for  exercise. 
Habits  of  reading  and  reflection  would  be  formed, 
instead  of  habits  of  idleness  and  malicious  mis- 
chief The  wealth  and  prosperity  of  Massachusetts 
are  not  owing  to  natural  position  or  resources. 
They  exist,  in  despite  of  a  sterile  soil  and  an 
inhospitable  clime.  They  do  not  come  from  the 
earth,  but  from  the  ingenuity  and  frugality  of  the 
people.  Their  origin  is  good  thinking,  carried  out 
into  good  action;  and  intelligent  reading  in  a  child 
will  result  in  good  thinking  in  the  man  or  woman. 
But  there  is  danger,  it  is  said,  of  reading  bad 
books.  So  there  is  danger  of  eating  bad  food ;  shall 
we  therefore  have  no  harvests  ?  No  !  It  was  the 
kindling  excitement  of  a  few  books,  by  which 
those  Massachusetts  boys,  John  Adams  and  Ben- 
jamin Franklin,  first  struck  out  an  intellectual 
spark,  which  broadened  into  magnitude  and  bright- 
ened into  splendor,  until  it  became  a  mighty 
luminary,  which  now  stands,  and  shall  forever 
stand,  among  the  greater  lights  in  the  firmament 
of  glory. 

But  in  the  selection  of  books  for  school  libraries, 
let  every  man  stand  upon  his  honor,  and  never  ask 
for  the  introduction  of  any  book,  because  it  favors 
the  distinctive  views  of  his  sect  or  party.  A 
wise  man  prizes  only  the  free  and  intelligent  as- 


35 

sent  of  unprejudiced  minds ;  he  disdains  a  slavish 
and  non-compos  echo,  even  to  his  best- loved  opin- 
ions. In  striving  together  for  a  common  end, 
peculiar  ends  must  neither  be  advocated  nor  as- 
sailed. Strengthen  the  intellect  of  children,  by 
exercise  upon  the  objects  and  laws  of  Nature; 
train  their  feelings  to  habits  of  order,  industry, 
temperance,  justice ;  to  the  love  of  man,  because 
of  his  wants,  and  to  the  love  of  God,  because  of 
his  universally-acknowledged  perfections ;  and,  so 
far  as  public  measures,  applicable  to  all,  can 
reach,  you  have  the  highest  human  assurance, 
that,  when  they  grow  up,  they  will  adopt  your 
favorite  opinions,  if  they  are  right,  or  discover 
the  true  reasons  for  discarding  them,  if  they  are 
wrong. 

An  advantage  altogether  invaluable,  of  supply- 
ing a  child,  by  means  of  a  library  and  of  apparatus, 
with  vivid  ideas  and  illustrations,  is,  that  he  may 
always  be  possessed,  in  his  own  mind,  of  correct 
standards  and  types  with  which  to  compare  what- 
ever objects  he  may  see  in  his  excursions  abroad ; 
— and  that  he  may  also  have  useful  subjects  of 
reflection,  whenever  his  attention  is  not  engrossed 
by  external  things.  A  boy  who  is  made  clearly 
to  understand  the  philosophical  principle  on  which 
he  flies  his  kite,  and  then  to  recognize  the  same 
principle  in  a  wind  or  a  water-wheel,  and  in  the 
sailing  of  a  ship ; — wherever  business  or  pleasure 
may  afterwards  lead  him,  if  he  sees  that  principle 
in  operation,  he  will  mentally  refer  to  it,  and 
think  out  its  applications,  when,  otherwise,  he 
would  be  singing  or  whistling.  Twenty  years 
would  work  out  immense  results  from  such  daily 
observation  and  reflection.  Dr.  Franklin  attribu- 
ted much  of  his  practical  turn  of  mind, — which 
was  the  salient  point  of  his  immortality, — to  the 
fact,  that  his  father,  in  his  conversations  before 
the  family,  always  discussed  some  useful  subject, 


/ 


36 

or  developed  some  just  principle  of  individual  or 
social  action,  instead  of  talking  forever  about 
trout-catching  or  grouse-shooting ;  about  dogs,  din- 
ners, dice,  or  trumps.  In  its  moral  bearings  this 
subject  grows  into  immense  importance.  How 
many  months, — may  I  not  say  years, — in  a  child's 
life,  when,  with  spontaneous  activity,  his  mind 
hovers  and  floats  wherever  it  listeth  !  As  he  sits 
at  home,  amid  familiar  objects,  or  walks  frequent- 
ed paths,  or  lies  listlessly  in  his  bed,  if  his  mind 
be  not  preoccupied  with  some  substantial  subjects 
of  thought,  the  best  that  you  can  hope  is,  that  it 
will  wander  through  dream-land,  and  expend  its 
activity  in  chasing  shadows.  Far  more  probable 
is  it,  especially  if  the  child  is  exposed  to  the  con- 
tamination of  profane  or  obscene  minds,  that  in 
these  seasons  of  solitude  and  reverie,  the  cocka- 
trice's eggs  of  impure  thoughts  and  desires  will 
be  hatched.  And  what  boy^  at  least,  is  there  who 
is  not  in  daily  peril  of  being  corrupted  by  the 
evil  communications  of  his  elders  ?  We  all  know, 
that  there  are  self-styled  gentlemen  amongst  us, — 
self-styled  gentlemen^ — who  daily,  and  hourly,  lap 
their  tongues  in  the  foulness  of  profanity;  and 
though,  through  a  morally-insane  perversion,  they 
may  restrain  themselves,  in  the  presence  of  ladies 
and  of  clergymen,  yet  it  is  only  for  the  passing 
hour,  when  they  hesitate  not  to  pour  out  the  pent- 
up  flood,  to  deluge  and  defile  the  spotless  purity 
of  childhood, — and  this,  too,  at  an  age,  when 
these  polluting  stains  sink,  centre-deep,  into  their 
young  and  tender  hearts,  so  that  no  moral  bleach- 
ery  can  ever  afterwards  wholly  cleanse  and  purify 
them.  No  parent,  no  teacher,  can  ever  feel  any 
rational  security  about  the  growth  of  the  moral 
nature  of  his  child,  unless  he  contrives  in  some 
way  to  learn  the  tenor  of  his  secret,  silent  medi- 
tations, or  prepares  the  means,  beforehand,  of 
determining  what  those  meditations  shall  be.     A 


37 

child  may  soon  find  it  no  dij3icuU  thing,  to  converse 
and  act  by  a  set  o{  approved  rules,  and  then  to 
retire  into  the  secret  chambers  of  liis  own  soul, 
and  there  to  riot  and  gloat  upon  guilty  pleasures, 
whose  act  would  be  perdition,  and  would  turn  the 
fondest  home  into  a  hell.  But  there  is  an  antidote, 
— I  do  not  say  for  all,  but  for  most,  of  this  peril. 
The  mind  of  children  can  be  supplied  with  vivid 
illustrations  of  the  works  of  Nature  and  of  Art; 
its  chambers  can  be  himg  round  with  picture- 
thoughts  and  images  of  truth,  and  charity,  and 
justice,  and  affection,  which  will  be  companions 
to  the  soul,  when  no  earthly  friend  can  accom- 
pany it. 

It  is  only  a  further  development  of  this  topic, 
to  consider  the  inaptitude  of  many  of  our  educa- 
tional processes,  for  making  accurately- thinking 
minds.  It  has  been  said  by  some  one,  that  the  good 
sense  and  sound  judgment,  which  we  find  in  the 
community,  are  only  what  have  escaf>ed  the  gen- 
eral ravage  of  a  bad  edncation.  School  studies 
ought  to  be  so  arranged,  as  to  promote  a  harmo- 
nious development  o(  the  faculties.  In  despotic 
Prussia,  a  special  science  is  cultivated,  under  the 
name  of  methodik^  the  scope  of  which  is  to 
arrange  and  adapt  studies,  so  as  to  meet  the  wants 
and  exercise  the  powers  of  the  opening  mind.  In 
free  America,  we  have  not  the  name ;  indeed,  we 
can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  the  idea.  Surely, 
the  farmer,  the  gardener,  the  florist,  who  have 
established  rules  for  cultivating  every  species  of 
grain,  and  fruit,  and  flower,  cannot  doubt,  that, 
in  the  unfolding  and  expanding  of  the  young 
mini,  some  processes  will  be  congenial,  others 
fatal.  Those  whose  business  it  is  to  compound 
ingredients,  in  any  art,  weigh  them  with  the  nicest 
exactness,  and  watch  the  precise  moments  of  their 
chemical  combinations.  The  mechanic  selects  all 
his  materials  with  the  nicest  care,  and  measures 
4 


/ 


38 

all  their  dimensions  to  a  hair's  breadth ;  and  he 
knows  that  if  he  fails  in  aught,  he  will  produce  a 
weak,  loose,  irregular  fabric.  Indeed,  can  yoii 
name  any  business,  avocation,  profession,  or  em- 
ployment, whatever, — even  to  the  making  of  hob- 
nails or  wooden  skewers, — where  chance,  igno- 
rance, or  accident,  is  ever  rewarded  with  a  perfect 
product?  But  in  no  calling  is  there  such  a  diver- 
sity as  in  education, — diversity  in  principles, 
diversity  in  the  application  of  those  principles. 
Discussion,  elucidation,  the  light  of  a  thousand 
minds  brought  to  a  focus,  would  result  in  discard- 
ing the  worst  and  in  improving  even  the  best 
Under  this  head  are  included  the  great  questions 
respecting  the  order  and  succession  of  studies; 
the  periods  of  alternation  between  them ;  the  pro- 
portion between  the  exact  and  the  approximate  sci- 
ences ;  and  what  is  principal  and  what  is  sub- 
sidiary, in  pursuing  them. 

/There  is  a  natural  order  and  progression  in  the 
development  of  the  faculties  :  "  First  the  blade, 
then  the  ear,  afterwards  the  full  corn  in  the  ear." 
And  in  the  mind,  as  in  the  grain,  the  blade  may 
be  so  treated  that  the  full  corn  will  never  appear. 
For  instance,  if  any  faculty  is  brooded  upon  and 
warmed  into  life  before  the  period  of  its  natural 
development,  it  will  have  a  precocious  growth, 
to  be  followed  by  weakness,  or  by  a  want  of  sym- 
metry and  proportion  in  the  whole  character. 
Consequences  still  worse  will  follow,  where  fac- 
ulties are  cultivated  in  the  reverse  order  of  their 
natural  development.  Again,  if  collectiv^e  ideas 
are  forced  into  a  child's  mind,  without  liis  being 
made  to  analyze  them,  and  understand  the  indi- 
vidual ideas  of  which  they  arc  composed,  the 
probability  is,  that  the  collective  idea  will  never 
be  comprehended./  Let  me  illustrate  this  position 
by  a  case  where  it  is  least  likely  to  happen,  that 
we  may  form  some  idea  of  its  frequency  in  other 


39 

things.  A  child  is  taught  to  count  ten.  He  is 
taught  to  repeat  the  words,  owe,  two^  &c.,  as  words, 
merely  ;  and  if  care  be  not  taken,  he  will  attach 
no  more  comprehensive  idea  to  the  word  tetiy  than 
he  did  to  the  word  one.  He  will  not  think  of  ten 
ones,  as  he  uses  it.  In  the  same  way,  he  proceeds 
to  use  the  words,  hundred,  thousand,  million,  <fec., 
•^the  idea  in  his  mind,  not  keeping  within  hailing 
distance  of  the  signification  of  the  words  used. 
Hence  there  is  generated  a  habit  of  using  words, 
not  as  the  representatives  of  ideas,  but  as  sounds, 
merely.  How  few  children  there  are  of  the  age 
of  sixteen  years, — an  age  at  which  almost  all  of 
them  have  ceased  to  attend  upon  our  schools, — 
who  have  any  adequate  conception  of  the  power 
of  the  signs  they  have  been  using.  How  few  of 
them  know  even  so  simple  a  truth  as  this,  that,  if 
they  were  to  count  one,  every  second,  for  ten  hours 
in  a  day,  without  intermission,  it  would  take  about 
twenty-eight  days  to  count  a  million.  Yet  they 
have  been  talking  of  millions,  and  hundreds  of 
millions,  as  though  they  were  units.  Now,  sup- 
pose you  speak  to  such  a  person  of  millions  of 
children,  growing  up  under  a  highly  elaborated 
system  of  vicious  education,  unbalanced  by  any 
good  influences ;  or  suppose  you  appeal  to  him,  in 
behalf  of  a  million  of  people  wailing  beneath  the 
smitings  of  the  oppressor's  rod, — he  gets  no  dis- 
tinct idea  of  so  many  as  fifty ;  and  therefore  he 
has  no  intellectual  substratum,  upon  which  to 
found  an  appropriate  feeling,  or  by  which  to  grad- 
uate its  intensity. 

Again  ;  in  geography, we  put  a  quarto-sized  map, 
or  perhaps  a  globe  no  larger  than  a  goose's  egg, 
into  a  child's  hands,  and  we  invite  him  to  spread 
out  his  mind  over  continents,  oceans,  and  archi- 
pelagoes, at  once.  This  process  does  not  expand 
the  mind  of  the  child  to  the  dimensions  of  the 
objects,  but  it  belittles  the  objects  to  the  nutshell 


/ 


40 

capacity  of  the  mind.  Such  a  course  of  instruction 
may  make  precocious,  green-house  children ;  but 
you  will  invariably  find,  that,  when  boys  are  pre- 
maturely turned  into  little  men,  they  remain  lit- 
tle men,  always.  Physical  geography  should  be 
commenced  by  making  a  child  describe  and  plot  a 
room  with  its  fixtures,,  a  hause  with  its  apartments, 
the  adjoining  yards,  fields,  roads  or  streets,  hills, 
waters,  &c.  Then  embracing,  if  possible,  the 
occasion  of  a  visit  to  a  neighboring  town,  or  county, 
that  should  be  included.  Here,  perpetual  reference 
must  be  had  to  the  points  of  the  compass.  After 
a  just  extension  has  been  given  to  his  ideas  of  a 
county,  or  a  state,  then  that  county  or  state  should 
be  shown  to  him  on  a  globe ;  and,  cost  what  labor 
or  time  it  may,  his  mind  must  be  expanded  to  a 
comprehension  of  relative  magnitudes,  so  that  his 
idea  of  the  earth  shall  be  as  adequate  to  the  size 
of  the  earth,  as  his  idea  af  the  house  or  the  field 
was  to  the  size  of  the  house  or  the  field.  Thus 
the  pupil  founds  his  knowledge  of  unseen  things 
upon  the  distinct  notions  of  eyesight,  in  regard  to 
familiar  objects.  Yet  I  believe  it  is  not  very  un- 
common to  give  the  mind  of  the  young  learner  a 
continent,  for  a  single  intellectual  meal,  and  an 
ocean  to  wash  it  down  with.  It  recently  happened, 
in  a  school  within  my  own  knowledge,  that  a 
class  of  small  scholars  in  geography,  on  being 
examined  respecting  the  natural  divisions  of  the 
earth, — its  continents,  oceans,  islands,  gulfs,  (fcc, — 
answered  all  the  questions  with  admirable  precis- 
ion and  promptness.  They  were  then  asked,  by 
a  visiter,  some  general  questions  respecting  their 
lesson,  and,  amongst  others,  whether  they  had 
ever  seen  the  earth  about  which  they  had  been 
reciting;  and  they  unanimously  declared,  in  good 
faith,  that  they  never  had.  Do  we  not  find  here 
an  explanation,  why  there  are  so  many  men  whose 
conceptions  on  all  subjects  are  laid  down  on  so 


41 

small  a  scale  of  miles, — so  many  thousand  leagues 
to  a  hair's  breadth  7  By  such  absurd  processes, 
no  vivid  ideas  can  be  gained,  and  therefore  no 
pleasure  is  enjoyed.  A  capacity  of  wonder  is 
destroyed  in  a  day,  sufficient  to  keep  alive  the 
flame  of  curiosity  for  years.  The  subjects  of 
the  lessons  cease  to  be  new,  and  yet  are  not  un- 
derstood. Curiosity,  which  is  the  hunger  and 
thirst  of  the  mind,  is  forever  cheated  and  balked ; 
for  nothing  but  a  real  idea  can  give  real,  true, 
intellectual  gratification.  A  habit,  too,  is  inevi- 
tably formed  of  reciting,  without  thinking.  At 
length,  the  most  glib  recitation  becomes  the  best ; 
and  the  less  the  scholars  are  delayed  by  thought, 
the  faster  they  can  prate,  as  a  mill  clacks  quicker 
when  there  is  no  grist  in  the  hopper.  Thorough- 
ness, therefore, — thoroughness,  and  again  I  say, 
thoroughness^  for  the  sake  of  the  knowledge,  and 
still  more  for  the  sake  of  the  habit, — should,  at 
all  events,  be  enforced ;  and  a  pupil  should  never 
be  suffered  to  leave  any  subject,  until  he  can  reach 
his  arms  quite  around  it,  and  clench  his  hands 
upon  the  opposite  side.  Those  persons,  who  / 
know  a  little  of  every  thing  but  nothing  well, 
have  been  aptly  compared  to  a  certain  sort  of 
pocket-knife,  which  sorfie  over-curious  people  car- 
ry about  with  them,  which,  in  addition  to  a  com- 
mon knife,  contains  a  file,  a  chisel,  a  saw,  a  gimlet, 
a  screw-driver,  and  a  pair  of  scissors,  but  all  so 
diminutive,  that  the  moment  they  are  needed  for 
use,  they  are  found  useless. 

It  seems  to  me  that  one  of  the  greatest  errors  in 
education,  at  the  present  time,  is  the  desire  and 
ambition,  at  single  lessons,  to  teach  complex  truths, 
whole  systems,  doctrines,  theorems,  which  years 
of  analysis  arc  scarcely  sufficient  to  unfold ;  instead 
of  commencing  with  simple  elements,  and  then 
rising,  by  gradations,  to  combined  results.  All  is 
administered  in  a  mass.  We  strive  to  introduce 
4* 


42 

knowledge  into  the  child's  mind,  the  great  end 
first.  When  lessons  are  given  in  this  way,  the 
pupil,  being  unable  to  comprehend  the  ideas,  tries 
to  remember  the  words,  and  thus,  at  best,  is  sent 
away  with  a  single  fact,  instead  of  a  principle, 
explanatory  of  whole  classes  of  facts.  The  les- 
sons are  learned  by  rote ;  and  when  a  teacher 
practises  upon  the  rote  system,  he  uses  the  minds 
of  the  pupils,  just  as  they  use  their  own  slates, 
in  working  arithmetical  questions; — whenever  a 
second  question  is  to  be  wrought,  the  first  is 
sponged  out,  to  make  room  for  it.  What  would 
be  thought  of  a  teacher  of  music,  who  should  give 
his  pupils  the  most  complicated  exercises,  before 
they  had  learned  to  sound  simple  notes  7  It  is 
said  of  the  athlete,  Milo  of  Crotona,  that  he  began 
by  lifting  a  calf,  and,  continuing  to  lift  it  daily, 
he  gained  strength  as  fast  as  the  animal  gained 
weight;  so  that  he  was  able  to  lift  it,  when  it 
became  an  ox.  Had  he  begun  by  straining  to  lift 
an  ox,  he  would  probably  have  broken  down,  and 
been  afterwards  unable  to  lift  even  a  calf  The 
point  to  which  I  would  invite  the  regards  of  the 
whole  community,  is,  whether  greater  attention 
should  not  be  paid  to  gradation,  to  progression  in 
a  natural  order,  to  adjustment,  to  the  preparation 
of  a  child's  mind  for  receiving  the  higher  forms 
of  truth,  by  first  making  it  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  their  elements.  The  temptation  to  this  error 
is  perhaps  the  most  seductive,  that  ever  beguiles 
a  teacher  from  his  duty.  He  desires  to  make  his 
pupils  appear  well.  He  forgets  that  the  great 
objects  of  their  education  lie  in  the  power,  and  dig- 
nity, and  virtue  of  life,  and  not  in  their  recitations, 
at  the  end  of  the  quarter.  Hence  he  strives  to 
prepare  them  for  the  hastening  day  of  exhibition. 
They  must  be  able  to  state,  in  words,  the  great  re- 
sults, in  science,  which  human  reason  has  achieved, 
after  almost  sixty  centuries  of  labor.     For  this 


43 

purpose, — in  which  they  also  are  tempted  to  con- 
spire, — he  loads  their  memories  with  burden  after 
burden  of  definitions  and  formulas ;  which  is  about 
as  useful  a  process, — and  is  it  not  also  about  as 
honest? — as  it  would  be  for  the  rearer  of  nursery- 
trees  to  buy  golden  pippins  in  the  market,  and, 
tying  them  upon  the  branches  of  his  young  trees, 
to  palm  them  off  upon  purchasers,  as  though  the 
delicious  fruit  had  been  elaborated  from  the  suc- 
culence of  the  stock  he  sells. 
/  Another  question  of  method,  to  which  I  most 
earnestly  solicit  the  attention  of  teachers  and  of 
the  whole  public,  is,  whether  there  is  not  too  much 
teaching  of  words,  instead  of  things.  Never  was 
a  severer  satire  uttered  against  human  reason, 
than  that  of  Mirabeau,  when  he  said,  "words  are 
things."  That  single  phrase  explains  the  whole 
French  Revolution.  Such  a  revolution  never 
could  have  occurred  amongst  a  people  who  spoke 
things,  instead  of  words.  Just  so  far  as  words 
are  things,  just  so  far  the  infinite  contexture  of 
realities  pertaining  to  body  and  soul,  to  earth  and 
heaven,  to  time  and  eternity,  is  nothing.  The 
ashes,  and  shreds,  and  wrecks  of  every  thing 
else  are  of  some  value;  but  of  words  not  freighted 
with  ideas,  there  is  no  salvage.  It  is  not  words, 
but  words  Jitly  spoken,  that  are  like  apples  of  gold 
in  pictures  of  silver.  Words  are  but  purses; 
things,  the  shining  coin  within  them.  Why  buy 
seventy  or  eighty  thousand  purses, — for  it  is  said 
we  have  about  that  number  of  untechnical  words 
in  the  language, — without  a  copper  for  deposit? 
I  believe  it  is  almost  universally  true,  that  young 
students  desire  to  be  composers ;  and  as  univer- 
sally true,  that  they  dread  composition.  When 
they  would  compose,  of  what  service,  then,  are 
those  columns  of  spelling-book  words,  which  they 
have  committed  to  memory  by  the  furlong?  Where 
then,  too,  are  the  rich  mines  of  thought  contained 


44 

m  their  Readers,  their  First-Class  Books,  and  their 
little  libraries?  These  they  have  been  accustomed 
to  consider  merely  as  instruments,  to  practise  pro- 
nunciation, emphasis,  and  cadence,  upon.  They 
have  moved,  for  years,  in  the  midst  of  ideas,  like 
blind  men  in  picture-galleries.  Hence  they  have 
no  knowledge  of  things^  and  their  relations ;  and, 
when  called  upon  for  composition,  they  have 
nothing  to  compound.  /But,  as  the  outward  and 
visible  sign  of  composition  is  a  sheet-full  of  words, 
a  sheet  is  filled,  though  more  from  the  dictionary 
than  from  the  head.  This  practice  comes  at  last, 
to  make  them  a  kind  of  sportsmen  or  warriors, 
who  think  their  whole  business  is  to  fire,  not  to  hit. 
Some,  who  have  a  strong  verbal  memory,  become 
dexterous  in  the  use  of  language  ;  so  that,  if  they 
can  have  two  ideas,  on  any  subject,  to  set  up 
at  the  ends,  as  termini,  they  will  fill  up  with 
words  any  distance  of  space  between  them.  Those 
who  have  not  this  verbal  memory,  become  the 
wind-driven  bubbles  of  those  who  have.  When 
the  habit  is  confirmed,  of  relying  on  the  verbal 
faculty,  the  rest  of  the  mind  dies  out.  The  dog- 
ma taught  by  Aristotle,  that  Nature  abhors  a 
vacuum,  is  experimentally  refuted.  I  know  of 
but  one  compensation  for  these  word-men ;  I  be- 
lieve they  never  become  insane.  Insanity  requires 
some  mind,  for  a  basis. 

The  subject  of  penal  discipline,  I  hardly  dare 
to  mention ;  especially  discipline  by  corporal  pun- 
ishment. In  this  department,  extremes  both  of 
doctrine  and  of  practice  prevail.  The  public  have 
taken  sides,  and  parties  are  arrayed  against  each 
other.  Some  repudiate  and  condemn  it,  alto- 
gether. With  others,  it  is  the  great  motive-power ; 
and  they  consider  it  as,  at  least,  the  first  and 
second,  if  not  the  three  estates  in  the  realm  of 
school-keeping.  Generally  speaking,  I  fear  that 
but  little  judgment  and  forethought  are  brought  to 


46 

the  decision  of  its  momentous  questions.  It  cannot 
be  discussed,  alone.  It  is  closely  connected  with 
intellectual  progress;  its  influences  pervade  the 
whole  moral  nature ;  and  it  must  be  looked  at,  in 
its  relations  to  them.  The  justifiable  occasions, 
if  any,  for  inflicting  it;  the  mode,  and  emphati- 
cally, the  spirit,  of  its  administration;  its  instru- 
ments; its  extent ;  the  conduct  that  should  precede 
and  should  follow  it, — are  questions  worthy  of 
the  deepest  attention.  That  corporal  punishment, 
considered  by  itself,  and  without  reference  to  its 
ultimate  object,  is  an  evil,  probably  none  will  deny. 
Yet,  with  almost  three  thousand  public  schools 
in  this  State,  composed  of  all  kinds  of  children, 
with  more  than  five  thousand  teachers,  of  all 
grades  of  qualification,  to  govern  them,  probably 
the  evils  of  corporal  punishment  must  be  endured, 
or  the  greater  ones  of  insubordination  and  mutiny 
be  incurred.  I  hesitate  also  to  speak  so  fully  of 
the  magnitude  of  these  evils,  as  I  would  wish  to 
do ;  because  there  are  some  excellent  teachers,  who 
manage  schools  without  resorting  to  it;  while 
others,  ambitious  for  the  same  honor,  but  destitute 
of  skill  and  of  the  divine  qualities  of  love,  pa- 
tience, sympathy,  by  which  alone  it  can  be  wonj 
have  discarded  what  they  call  corporal  punish- 
ment, but  have  resorted  to  other  modes  of  disci- 
pline, which,  though  they  may  bear  a  milder 
name,  are,  in  reality,  more  severe.  To  imprison 
timid  children  in  a  dark  and  solitary  place;  to 
brace  open  the  jaws  with  a  piece  of  wood;  to 
torture  the  muscles  and  bones,  by  the  strain  of  an 
unnatural  position,  or  of  holding  an  enormous 
weight;  to  inflict  a  wound  upon  the  instinctive 
feelings  of  modesty  and  delicacy,  by  making  a 
girl  sit  with  the  boys,  or  go  out  with  them,  at 
recess;  to  bring  a  whole  class  around  a  fellow- 
pupil,  to  ridicule  and  shame  him ;  to  break  down 
the  spirit  of  self-respect,  by  enforcing  some  igno- 


46 

minions  compliance;  to  give  a  nick-name; — these, 
and  such  as  these,  are  the  gentle  appliances,  by 
which  some  teachers,  who  profess  to  discard  cor- 
poral punishment,  maintain  the  empire  of  the 
schoolroom; — as  though  the  muscles  and  bones 
were  less  corporeal  than  the  skin ;  as  though  a 
wound  of  the  spirit  were  of  less  moment  than 
one  of  the  flesh ;  and  the  body's  blood  more  sa- 
cred than  the  soul's  purity.  But  of  these  solemn 
topics,  it  is  impossible  here  to  speak.  I  cannot, 
however,  forbear  to  express  the  opinion,  that  pun- 
ishment should  never  be  inflicted,  except  in  cases 
of  the  extremest  necessity ;  while  the  experiment 
of  sympathy,  confidence,  persuasion,  encourage- 
ment, should  be  repeated,  for  ever  and  ever.  The 
fear  of  bodily  pain  is  a  degrading  motive;  but  we 
have  authority  for  saying,  that  where  there  is 
perfect  love,  every  known  law  will  be  fulfilled. 
Parents  and  teachers  often  create  that  disgust  at 
study,  and  that  incorrigibleness  and  obstinacy  of 
disposition,  which  they  deplore.  It  is  a  sad  ex- 
change, if  the  very  blows,  which  beat  arithmetic 
and  grammar  into  a  boy,  should  beat  confidence 
and  manliness  out.  So  it  is  quite  as  important  to 
consider  what  feelings  are  excited,  in  the  mind, 
as  what  are  subdued,  by  the  punishment.  Which 
side  gains,  though  the  evil  spirit  of  roguery  or 
wantonness  be  driven  out,  if  seven  other  evil 
spirits,  worse  than  the  first, — sullenness,  irrever- 
ence, fraud,  lying,  hatred,  malice,  revenge, — are 
allowed  to  come  in  ?  The  motive  from  which  the 
offence  emanated,  and  the  motives  with  which  the 
culprit  leaves  the  bar  of  his  judge  and  executioner, 
are  every  thing.  If  these  are  not  regarded,  the 
offender  may  go  away  worse  than  he  came,  in 
addition  to  a  gratuitous  flagellation.  To  say  a 
child  knows  better,  is  nothing;  if  he  knows  better, 
why  does  he  not  do  better  ?  The  answer  to  this 
question  reveals  the  difficulty ;  and  whoever  has 


47 

not  patience  and  sagacity  to  solve  that  inquiry,  is 
as  unworthy  of  the  parental  trust,  as  is  the  physi- 
cian, of  administering  to  the  sick,  who  prescribes 
a  fatal  nostrum,  and  says,  in  justification,  that  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  disease.  In  fine,  if  any 
thing,  in  the  wide  range  of  education,  demands 
patience,  forethought,  judgment,  and  the  all-sub- 
duing spirit  of  love,  it  is  this ;  and  though  it  may 
be  too  much  to  say,  that  corporal  punishment  can 
be  disused  by  all  teachers,  with  regard  to  all 
scholars,  in  all  schools,  yet  it  may  be  averred, 
without  exception,  that  it  is  never  inflicted  with 
the  right  spirit,  nor  in  the  right  measure,  when  it 
is  not  more  painful  to  him  who  imposes,  than  to 
him  who  receives  it. 

Of  emulation  in  school,  as  an  incitement  to 
effort,  I  can  here  say  but  a  word ;  but  I  entreat 
all  intelligent  men  to  give  to  this  subject  a  most 
careful  consideration.  And  let  those  who  use  it, 
as  a  quickener  of  the  intellect,  beware,  lest  it 
prove  a  depraver  of  the  social  aflfections.  There 
is  no  necessary  incompatibility  between  the  up- 
ward progress  of  one  portion  of  our  nature,  and 
the  lower  and  lower  debasement  of  another.  The 
intellect  may  grow  wise,  while  the  passions  grow 
wicked.  No  cruelty  towards  a  child  can  be  so 
great  as  that  which  barters  morals  for  attainment. 
If,  under  the  fiery  stimulus  of  emulation,  the 
pupil  comes  to  regard  a  successful  rival  with  envy 
or  malevolence,  or  an  unsuccessful  one  with  arro- 
gance or  disdain;  if,  in  aiming  at  the  goal  of 
precedence,  he  loses  sight  of  the  goal  of  perfection; 
if,  to  gain  his  prize,  he  becomes  the  hypocrite, 
instead  of  the  reverer  of  virtue: — then,  though 
his  intellect  should  enter  upon  the  stage  of  life 
with  all  the  honors  of  an  early  triumph ;  yet  the 
noblest  parts  of  his  nature, — his  moral  and  social 
affections, — will  be  the  victims,  led  captive  in  the 
retinue.     Suppose,  in  some  Theological  Seminary, 


48 

a  prize  were  offered  for  the  best  exposition  of  the 
commandment,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as 
thy  self, ^^  and  two  known  competitors  were  to  task 
their  intellects,  to  win  it; — and,  on  the  day  of 
trial,  one  of  these  neighbor-loving  rivals,  with 
dilated  nostril  and  expanded  frame,  should  clutch 
the  honor ;  while  the  other  neighbor-loving  rival, 
with  quivering  lip  and  livid  countenance,  stood 
by, — the  vulture  of  envy,  all  the  while,  forking 
her  talons  into  his  heart ; — would  it  not  be  that 
very  mixture  of  the  ludicrous  and  the  horrible, 
which  demons  would  choose  for  the  subject  of  an 
epigram !  Paint,  or  chisel  the  whole  group  of 
neighbor-loving  rivals,  and  pious  doctors  sitting 
around  and  mingling, — in  one  chalice,  the  helle- 
bore of  pride,  and  in  another,  the  wormwood  of 
defeat, — to  be  administered  to  those  who  should 
be  brothers,  and  can  aught  be  found  more  worthy 
to  fill  a  niche  in  the  council-hall  of  Pandemoni- 
um !  Who  has  not  seen  winter,  with  its  deepest 
congelations,  come  in  between  ingenuous-minded 
and  loving  fellow-students,  whose  hearts  would 
otherwise  have  run  together,  like  kindred  drops 
of  water?  Who  has  not  witnessed  a  consump- 
tion,— not  of  the  lungs,  but  of  the  heart;  nay, 
both  of  lungs  and  heart, — wasting  its  victims 
with  the  smothered  frenzy  of  emulation?  It 
surely  is  within  the  equity  of  the  prayer,  "lead 
us  not  into  temptation,"  not  to  lead  others  into  it. 
And  ought  not  the  teacher,  who,  as  a  general  and 
prevalent, — I  do  not  say  a  universal  rule, — cannot 
sustain  order  and  insure  proficiency,  in  a  school, 
without  resorting  to  fear  and  emulation,  to  con- 
sider, whether  the  fault  be  in  human  nature  or  in 
himself?  And  will  there  ever  be  any  more  of 
that  secret,  silent  beneficence  amongst  us,  where 
the  left  hand  knows  not  of  the  blessings  scattered 
by  the  right?— will  there  ever  be  any  less  of  this 
deadly  strife  for  the  ostensible  signs  of  precedence, 


49 

in  the  social  and  political  arena,  while  the  germs 
of  emulation  are  so  assiduously  cultivated  in  the 
schoolroom,  the  academy,  and  the  college  7  The 
pale  ambition  of  men,  ready  to  sacrifice  country 
and  kind  for  self,  is  only  the  fire  of  youthful 
emulation,  heated  to  a  white  heat.  Yet,  there  is 
an  inborn  sentiment  of  emulation,  in  all  minds, 
and  there  are  external  related  objects  of  that  sen- 
timent. The  excellent,  who  may  be  present  with 
us,  but  who  are  advanced  in  life ;  the  great  and 
good,  who  are  absent,  but  whose  fame  is  every 
v/here;  the  illustrious  dead; — these  are  the  objects 
of  emulation.  A  rivalry  with  these  yields  sacred 
love,  not  consuming  envy.  On  these,  therefore, 
let  the  emulous  and  aspiring  gaze,  until  their  eyes 
overflow  with  tears,  and  every  tear  will  be  the 
baptism  of  honor  and  of  purity. 

Such  are  some  of  the  most  obvious  topics,  be- 
longing to  that  sacred  work, — the  education  of 
children.  The  science,  or  philosophical  princi- 
ples on  which  this  work  is  to  be  conducted ;  the 
art,  or  manner  in  which  those  principles  are  to  be 
applied,  must  all  be  rightly  settled  and  generally 
understood,  before  any  system  of  Public  Instruc- 
tion can  operate  with  efficiency.  Yet  all  this  has 
been  mainly  left  to  chance.  Compared  with  its 
deserts,  how  disproportionate,  how  little,  the  labor, 
cost  and  talent,  devoted  to  it.  We  have  a  Con- 
gress, convening  annually,  at  almost  incredible 
expense,  to  decide  upon  questions  of  tarifl[*,  inter- 
nal improvement,  and  currency.  We  have  a 
State  Legislature,  continuing  in  session  more  than 
a  fourth  part  of  every  year,  to  regulate  our  inter- 
nal polity.  We  have  Courts,  making  continual 
circuits  through  the  Commonwealth  to  adjudi- 
cate upon  doubtful  rights  of  person  or  property, 
however  trivial.  Every  great  department  of  lite- 
rature and  of  business  has  its  Periodical.  Every 
party,  political,  religious  and  social,  has  its  Press. 
5 


50 

Yet  Education,  that  vast  cause,  of  which  all 
other  causes  are  only  constituent  parts ;  that  cause, 
on  which  all  other  causes  are  dependent,  for  their 
vitality  and  usefulness, — if  I  except  the  American 
Institute  of  Instruction,  and  a  few  local,  feeble, 
unpatronized,  though  worthy  associations, — Edu- 
cation has  literally  nothing,  in  the  way  of  com- 
prehensive organization  and  of  united  effort,  acting 
for  a  common  end  and  under  the  focal  light  of  a 
common  intelligence.  It  is  under  these  circum- 
stances ;  it  is  in  view  of  these  great  public  wants, 
that  the  Board  of  Education  has  been  established, 
— not  to  legislate,  not  to  enforce, — but  to  collect 
facts,  to  educe  principles,  to  diffuse  a  knowledge 
of  improvements ; — in  fine,  to  submit  the  views 
of  men  who  have  thought  much  upon  this  subject 
to  men  who  have  thought  but  little. 

To  specify  the  labors  which  education  has  yet 
to  perform,  would  be  only  to  pass  in  review  the 
varied  interests  of  humanity.  Its  general  pur- 
poses are  to  preserve  the  good  and  to  repudiate 
the  evil  which  now  exist,  and  to  give  scope  to 
the  subUme  law  of  progression.  It  is  its  duty  to 
take  the  accumulations  in  knowledge,  of  almost 
six  thousand  years,  and  to  transfer  the  vast  treas- 
ure to  posterity.  Suspend  its  functions  for  but  one 
generation,  and  the  experience  and  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  past  are  lost.  The  race  must  com- 
mence its  fortunes  anew,  and  must  again  spend 
six  thousand  years,  before  it  can  grope  its  way 
upward  from  barbarism  to  the  present  point  of 
civiHzation.  With  the  wisdom,  education  must 
also  teach  something  of  the  follies,  of  the  past, 
for  admonition  and  warning ;  for  it  has  been  well 
said,  that  mankind  have  seldom  arrived  at  truth, 
on  any  subject,  until  they  had  first  exhausted  its 
errors. 

Education  is  to  instruct  the  whole  people  in  the 
proper  care  of  the  body,  in  order  to  augment  the 


51 

powers  of  that  wonderful  macliinej  and  to  prevent 
so  much  of  disease,  of  suffering,  and  of  premature 
death.  The  body  is  the  mind's  instrument;  and 
the  powers  of  the  mind,  hke  the  skill  of  an  artisan, 
may  all  be  baffled,  through  the  imperfection  of 
their  utensils.  The  happiness  and  the  usefulness 
of  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  men  and 
women  have  been  destroyed,  from  not  knowing  a 
few  of  the  simple  laws  of  health,  which  they 
might  have  learned  in  a  few  months ; — nay,  which 
might  have  been  so  impressed  upon  them,  as  habits, 
in  childhood,  that  they  would  never  think  there 
was  any  other  way.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  ruin, 
that  comes  from  slavery  to  throned  appetites, 
where  the  bondage  might  continue  in  defiance  of 
knowledge ;  but  1  speak  of  cases,  where  the  pros- 
tration of  noble  powers  and  the  suffering  of  terrible 
maladies  result  from  sheer  ignorance  and  false 
views  of  the  wise  laws  to  which  God  has  subjected 
our  physical  nature.  No  doubt,  Voltaire  said 
truly,  that  the  fate  of  many  a  nation  had  depended 
upon  the  good  or  bad  digestion  of  its  minister; 
and  how  much  more  extensively  true  would  the 
remark  be,  if  applied  to  individuals  7  How  many 
men  perfectly  understand  the  observances  by 
which  their  horses  and  cattle  are  made  healthy 
and  strong;  while  their  children  are  puny,  distem- 
pered, and  have  chronic  diseases,  at  the  very 
earliest  age,  at  which  so  highly-finished  an  article 
as  a  chronic  disease  can  be  prepared.  There  is  a 
higher  art  than  the  art  of  the  physician  ; — the  art, 
not  of  restoring^  but  of  making  health.  Health 
is  a  product.  Health  is  a  manufactured  article, 
— as  much  so  as  any  fabric  of  the  loom  or  the 
workshop ;  and,  except  in  some  few  cases  of  he- 
reditary taint  or  of  organic  lesion  from  accident  or 
violence,  the  how  much,  or  the  how  little,  health 
any  man  shall  enjoy,  depends  upon  his  treatment 
of  himself;  or  rather,  upon  the  treatment  of  those 


52 

who  manage  his  infancy  and  childhood,  and  cre- 
ate his  habits  for  him.  Situated,  as  we  are,  in  a 
high  latitude,  with  the  Atlantic  ocean  on  one  side 
and  a  range  of  mountains  on  the  other,  we  cannot 
escape  frequent  and  great  transitions,  in  the  tem- 
perature of  our  weather.  Our  region  is  the  perpet- 
ual battle-ground  of  the  torrid  and  the  arctic, 
where  they  alternately  prevail ;  and  it  is  only  by 
a  sort  of  average  that  we  call  it  temperate.  Yet 
to  this  natural  position  we  must  adapt  ourselves, 
or  abandon  it,  or  suffer.  Hence  the  necessity  of 
making  health,  in  order  to  endure  natural  inclem- 
encies ;  and  hence  also  the  necessity  of  including 
the  simple  and  benign  laws  on  which  it  depends,  in 
all  our  plans  of  education.  Certainly,  our  hearts 
should  glow  with  gratitude  to  Heaven,  for  all  the 
means  of  health ;  but  every  expression  indicating 
that  health  is  a  Divine  gift,  in  any  other  sense 
than  all  our  blessings  are  a  Divine  gift,  should  be 
discarded  from  the  language ;  and  it  should  be 
incorporated  into  the  forms  of  speech,  that  a  man 
prepares  his  own  health,  as  he  does  his  own  house. 
Education  is  to  inspire  the  love  of  truth,  as  the 
supremest  good,  and  to  clarify  the  vision  of  the 
intellect  to  discern  it.  We  want  a  generation  of 
men  above  deciding  great  and  eternal  principles, 
upon  narrow  and  selfish  grounds.  Our  advanced 
state  of  civilization  has  evolved  many  complicated 
questions  respecting  social  duties.  We  want  a 
generation  of  men  capable  of  taking  up  these 
complex  questions,  and  of  turning  all  sides  of 
them  towards  the  sun,  and  of  examining  them  by 
the  white  light  of  reason,  and  not  under  the  false 
colors  which  sophistry  may  throw  upon  them. 
We  want  no  men  who  will  change,  like  the  vanes 
of  our  steeples,  with  the  course  of  the  popular 
wind;  but  we  want  men  who,  like  mountains, 
will  change  the  course  of  the  wind.  We  want 
no  more  of  those  patriots  who  exhaust  their  pa- 


53 

triotism,  in  lauding  the  past ;  but  we  want  patriots 
who  will  do  for  the  future  what  the  past  has  done 
for  us.  We  want  men  capable  of  deciding,  not 
merely  what  is  right,  in  principle, — that  is  often 
the  smallest  part  of  the  case ; — but  we  want  men 
capable  of  deciding  what  is  right  in  means,  to  ac- 
complish what  is  right  in  principle.  We  want 
men  who  will  speak  to  this  great  people  in  counsel, 
and  not  in  flattery.  We  want  godlike  men  who 
can  tame  the  madness  of  the  times,  and,  speaking 
divine  words  in  a  divine  spirit,  can  say  to  the 
raging  of  human  passions,  "  Peace,  be  still ;"  and 
usher  in  the  calm  of  enlightened  reason  and 
conscience.  Look  at  our  community,  divided  into 
so  many  parties  and  factions,  and  these  again 
subdivided,  on  all  questions  of  social,  national, 
and  international,  duty ; — while,  over  all,  stands, 
ahnost  unheeded,  the  sublime  form  of  Truth, 
eternally  and  indissolubly  One !  Nay,  further, 
those  do  not  agree  in  thought  who  agree  in  words. 
Their  unanimity  is  a  delusion.  It  arises  from  the 
imperfection  of  language.  Could  men,  who  sub- 
scribe to  the  same  forms  of  words,  but  look  into 
each  other's  minds,  and  see,  there,  what  features 
their  own  idolized  doctrines  wear,  friends  would 
often  start  back  from  the  friends  they  have  loved, 
with  as  much  abhorrence  as  from  the  enemies 
they  have  persecuted.  Now,  what  can  save  us 
from  endless  contention,  but  the  love  of  truth'? 
What  can  save  us,  and  our  children  after  us,  from 
eternal,  implacable,  universal  war,  but  the  great- 
est of  all  human  powers, — the  power  of  impartial 
thought?  Many, — may  I  not  say  most, — of  those 
great  questions,  which  make  the  present  age  boil 
and  seethe,  like  a  cauldron,  will  never  be  settled, 
until  we  have  a  generation  of  men  who  were 
educated,  from  childhood,  to  seek  for  truth  and  to 
revere  justice.  In  the  middle  of  the  last  century, 
a  great  dispute  arose  among  astronomers,  respect- 
5* 


54 

ing  one  of  the  planets.  Some,  in  their  folly, 
commenced  a  war  of  words,  and  wrote  hot  books 
against  each  other ;  others,  in  their  wisdom,  im- 
proved their  telescopes,  and  soon  settled  the  ques- 
tion forever.  Education  should  imitate  the  latter. 
If  there  are  momentous  questions  which,  with 
present  lights,  we  cannot  demonstrate  and  deter- 
mine, let  us  rear  up  stronger,  and  purer,  and  more 
impartial,  minds,  for  the  solemn  arbitrament.  Let 
it  be  for  ever  and  ever  inculcated,  that  no  bodily- 
wounds  or  maim,  no  deformity  of  person,  nor 
disease  of  brain,  or  lungs,  or  heart,  can  be  so 
disabling  or  so  painful,  as  error ;  and  that  he  who 
heals  us  of  our  prejudices  is  a  thousand  fold  more 
our  benefactor,  than  he  who  heals  us  of  mortal 
maladies.  Teach  children,  if  you  will,  to  beware 
of  the  bite  of  a  mad  dog ;  but  teach  them  still 
more  faithfully,  that  no  horror  of  water  is  so  fatal 
as  a  horror  of  truth,  because  it  does  not  come  from 
our  leader  or  our  party.  Then  shall  we  have 
more  men  who  will  think,  as  it  were,  under  oath ; 
— not  thousandth  and  ten  thousandth  transmitters 
of  falsity; — not  copyists  of  copyists,  and  blind 
followers  of  blind  followers;  but  men  who  can 
track  the  Deity  in  his  ways  of  wisdom.  A  love 
of  truth, — a  love  of  truth ;  this  is  the  pool  of  a 
moral  Bethesda,  whose  waters  have  miraculous 
healing.  And  though  we  lament  that  we  cannot 
bequeath  to  posterity  this  precious  boon,  in  its 
perfectness,  as  the  greatest  of  all  patrimonies,  yet 
let  us  rejoice  that  we  can  inspire  a  love  of  it,  a 
reverence  for  it,  a  devotion  to  it ;  and  thus  cir- 
cumscribe and  weaken  whatever  is  wrong,  and 
enlarge  and  strengthen  whatever  is  right,  in  that 
mixed  inheritance  of  good  and  evil,  which,  in  the 
order  of  Providence,  one  generation  transmits  to 
another. 

If  we  contemplate  the  subject  with  the  eye  of 
a  statesman,  what  resources   are   there,   in   the 


55 

whole  domain  of  Nature,  at  all  comparable  to 
that  vast  influx  of  power  which  comes  into  the 
world  with  every  incoming  generation  of  children? 
Each  embryo  life  is  more  wonderful  than  the 
globe  it  is  sent  to  inhabit,  and  more  glorious  than 
the  sun  upon  which  it  first  opens  its  eyes.  Each 
one  of  these  millions,  with  a  fitting  education,  is 
capable  of  adding  something  to  the  sum  of  human 
happiness,  and  of  subtracting  something  from  the 
sum  of  human  misery;  and  many  great  souls 
amongst  them  there  are,  who  may  become  instru- 
ments for  turning  the  course  of  nations,  as  the 
rivers  of  water  are  turned.  It  is  the  duty  of  moral 
and  religious  education  to  employ  and  administer 
all  these  capacities  of  good,  for  lofty  purposes  of 
human  beneficence, — as  a  wise  minister  employs 
the  resources  of  a  great  empire.  "Suffer  little 
children  to  come  unto  me,"  said  the  Savior, 
*'  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven."  And  who  shall  dare  say,  that  phi- 
lanthropy and  religion  cannot  make  a  better  world 
than  the  present,  from  beings  like  those  in  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven^ 

Education  must  be  universal.  It  is  well,  when 
the  wise  and  the  learned  discover  new  truths ;  but 
how  much  better  to  diffuse  the  truths  already  dis- 
covered, amongst  the  multitude  !  Every  addition 
to  true  knowledge  is  an  addition  to  human  power; 
and  while  a  philosopher  is  discovering  one  new 
truth,  millions  may  be  propagated  amongst  the 
people.  Diffusion,  then,  rather  than  discovery, 
is  the  duty  of  -our  government.  With  us,  the 
qualification  of  voters  is  as  important  as  the  qual- 
ification of  governors,  and  even  comes  first,  in  the 
natural  order.  Yet  there  is  no  Sabbath  of  rest, 
in  our  contests  about  the  latter,  while  so  little  is 
done  to  qualify  the  former.  /The  theory  of  our 
government  is, — not  that  all  men,  however  unfit, 
shall  be  voters, — but  that  every  man,  by  the  power 


56 

of  reason  and  the  sense  of  duty,  shall  become  fit 
to  be  a  voter.  Education  must  bring  the  practice 
as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  theory.  As  the  chil- 
dren now  are,  so  will  the  sovereigns  soon  be.  How 
can  we  expect  the  fabric  of  the  government  to 
stand,  if  vicious  materials  are  daily  wrought  into 
its  frame- work?  Education  must  prepare  our 
citizens  to  become  municipal  officers,  intelligent 
jurors,  honest  witnesses,  legislators,  or  competent 
judges  of  legislation, — in  fine,  to  fill  all  the  mani- 
fold relations  of  life.  For  this  end,  it  must  be 
universal/  The  whole  land  must  be  watered  with 
the  streams  of  knowledge.  It  is  not  enough  to 
have,  here  and  there,  a  beautiful  fountain  playing 
in  palace-gardens;  but  let  it  come  like  the  abun- 
dant fatness  of  the  clouds  upon  the  thirsting  earth. 
Finally,  education,  alone^  can  conduct  us  to 
that  enjoyment  which  is,  at  once,  best  in  quality 
and  infinite  in  quantity.  God  has  revealed  to  us, 
— not  by  ambiguous  signs,  but  by  His  mighty 
works ; — not  in  the  disputable  language  of  human 
mvention,  but  by  the  soUd  substance  and  reality  of 
things, — what  He  holds  to  be  valuable,  and  what 
He  regards  as  of  little  account.  The  latter  He 
has  created  sparingly,  as  though  it  were  nothing 
worth ;  while  the  former  He  has  poured  forth  with 
immeasurable  munificence.  I  suppose  all  the 
diamonds  ever  found,  could  be  hid  under  a  bushel. 
Their  quantity  is  little,  because  their  value  is 
small.  But  iron  ore, — without  which  mankind 
would  always  have  been  barbarians;  without 
which  they  would  now  relapse  into  barbarism, — 
he  has  strewed  profusely  all  over  the  earth.  Com- 
pare the  scantiness  of  pearl,  with  the  extent  of 
forests  and  coal-fields.  Of  one,  little  has  been 
created,  because  it  is  worth  little ;  of  the  others, 
much,  because  they  are  worth  much.  His  foun- 
tains of  naphtha,  how  few,  and  myrrh  and  frank- 
incense, how  exiguous ;  but  who  can  fathom  His 


57 

reservoirs  of  water,  or  measure  the  light  and  the 
air  !  This  principle  pervades  every  realm  of  Na- 
ture. Creation  seems  to  have  been  projected  upon 
the  plan  of  increasing  the  quantity,  in  the  ratio 
of  the  intrinsic  value.  Emphatically  is  this  plan 
manifested,  when  we  come  to  that  part  of  crea- 
tion we  call  ourselves.  Enough  of  the  materials 
of  worldly  good  has  been  created  to  answer  this 
great  principle, — that,  up  to  the  point  of  com- 
petence, up  to  the  point  of  independence  and 
self-respect,  few  things  are  more  valuable  than 
property;  beyond  that  point,  few  things  are  of 
less.  And  hence  it  is,  that  all  acquisitions  of 
property,  beyond  that  point, — considered  and  used 
as  mere  property, — confer  an  inferior  sort  of  pleas- 
ure, in  inferior  quantities.  However  rich  a  man 
may  be,  a  certain  number  of  thicknesses  of  wool- 
lens or  of  silks  is  all  he  can  comfortably  wear. 
Give  him  a  dozen  palaces,  he  can  live  in  but  one 
at  a  time.  Though  the  commander  be  worth  the 
whole  regiment,  or  ship's  company,  he  can  have 
the  animal  pleasure  of  eating  only  his  own  rations  j 
and  any  other  animal  eats,  with  as  much  relish 
as  he.  Hence  the  wealthiest,  with  all  their  wealth, 
are  driven  back  to  a  cultivated  mind,  to  benefi- 
cent uses  and  appropriations ;  and  it  is  then,  and 
then  only,  that  a  glorious  vista  of  hajJpiness  opens 
out  into  immensity  and  immortality. 

Education,  then,  is  to  show  to  our  youth,  in 
early  life,  this  broad  line  of  demarcation  between 
the  value  of  those  things  which  can  be  owned 
and  enjoyed  by  but  one,  and  those  which  can  be 
owned  and  enjoyed  by  all.  If  I  own  a  ship,  a 
house,  a  farm,  or  a  mass  of  the  metals  called  pre- 
cious, my  right  to  them  is,  in  its  nature,  sole  and 
exclusive.  No  other  man  has  a  right  to  trade 
with  my  ship,  to  occupy  my  house,  to  gather  my 
harvests,  or  to  appropriate  my  treasures  to  his  use. 
They  are  mine,  and  are  incapable,  both  of  a  sole 


58 

and  of  a  joint  possession.  But  not  so  of  the 
treasures  of  knowledge,  which  it  is  the  duty  of 
education  to  diffuse.  The  same  truth  may  enrich 
and  ennoble  all  intelligences  at  once.  Infinite 
diffusion  subtracts  nothing  from  depth.  None  are 
made  poor  because  others  are  made  rich.  In  this 
part  of  the  Divine  economy,  the  privilege  of  pri- 
mogeniture attaches  to  all ;  and  every  son  and 
daughter  of  Adam  are  heirs  to  an  infinite  patri- 
mony. If  I  own  an  exquisite  picture  or  statue, 
it  is  mine,  exclusively.  Even  though  publicly 
exhibited,  but  few  could  be  charmed  by  its  beau- 
ties, at  the  same  time.  It  is  incapable  of  bestowing 
a  pleasure,  simultaneous  and  universal.  But  not 
so  of  the  beauty  of  a  moral  sentiment ;  not  so  of 
the  glow  of  sublime  emotion ;  not  so  of  the  feelings 
of  conscious  purity  and  rectitude.  These  may 
shed  rapture  upon  all,  without  deprivation  of  any ; 
be  imparted,  and  still  possessed;  transferred  to 
millions,  yet  never  surrendered ;  carried  out  of  the 
world,  and  still  left  in  it.  These  may  imparadise 
mankind,  and,  undiluted,  unattenuated,  be  sent 
round  the  whole  orb  of  being.  Let  education, 
then,  teach  children  this  great  truth,  written  as  it 
is  on  the  fore-front  of  the  universe,  that  God  has 
so  constituted  this  world,  into  which  He  has  sent 
them,  that  whatever  is  really  and  truly  valuable 
may  be  possessed  by  all,  and  possessed  in  exhaust- 
less  abundance. 

And  now,  you,  my  friends !  who  feel  that  you 
are  patriots  and  lovers  of  mankind, — what  bul- 
warks, what  ramparts  for  freedom  can  you  devise, 
so  enduring  and  impregnable,  as  intelligence  and 
virtue !  Parents !  among  the  happy  groups  of  chil- 
dren whom  you  have  at  home, — more  dear  to  you 
than  the  blood  in  the  fountain  of  life, — you  have- 
not  a  son  nor  a  daughter  who,  in  this  world  of 
temptation,  is  not  destined  to  encounter  perils  more 
dangerous  than  to  walk  a  bridge  of  a  single  plank. 


69 

ov^  a  dark  and  sweeping  torrent,  beneath.  But 
it  is  in  your  power  and  at  your  option,  with  the 
means  which  Providence  will  graciously  vouch- 
safe, to  give  them  that  firmness  of  intellectual 
movement  and  that  keenness  of  moral  vision, — 
that  light  of  knowledge  and  that  omnipotence 
of  virtue, — by  which,  in  the  hour  of  trial,  they 
will  be  able  to  walk,  with  unfaltering  step,  over 
the  deep  and  yawning  abyss,  below,  and  to  reach 
the  opposite  shore,  in  safety,  and  honor,  and  hap- 
piness. 


LECTURE  II. 

1838. 


LECTURE  II 

SPECIAL  PREPARATION,  A  PRE-REQUISITE  TO 
TEACHING. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Convention  : 

After  the  lapse  of  another  year,  we  are  again 
assembled  to  hold  counsel  together  for  the  welfare 
of  our  children.  On  this  occasion,  we  have  much 
reason  to  meet  each  other  with  voices  of  congrat- 
ulation and  hearts  of  gladness.  During  the  past 
year,  the  cause  of  Popular  Education,  in  this 
Commonwealth,  has  gained  some  suffrages  of 
public  opinion.  On  presenting  its  wants  and  its 
claims  to  citizens  in  every  part  of  the  State,  I 
have  found  that  there  were  many  individuals  who 
appreciated  its  importance,  and  who  only  awaited 
an  opportunity  to  give  utterance  and  action  to 
their  feelings; — in  almost  every  town,  some, — in 
many,  a  band. 

Some  of  onr  hopes,  also,  have  become  facts. 
The  last  Legislature  acted  towards  this  cause, 
the  part  of  a  wise  and  faithful  guardian.  In- 
quiries having  been  sent  into  all  parts  of  the 
Commonwealth,  to  ascertain  the  deficiencies  in 
our  Common  School  system,  and  the  causes  of 
failure  in  its  workings;  and  the  results  of  those 
inquiries  having  been  communicated  to  the  Legis- 
lature,— together  with  suggestions  for  the  applica- 
tion of  a  few  obvious  and  energetic  remedies, — 
that  body  forthwith  enacted  such  laws  as  the 
wants  of  the  system  most  immediately  and  impe- 
riously demanded.  Probably,  at  no  session  since 
the  origin  of  our  Common  School  system,  have 


64 

laws  more  propitious  to  its  welfare  been  made, 
than  during  the  last.  True,  the  substantive  parts 
of  the  great  system  of  Public  Instruction,  pre- 
existed; but,  in  many  respects,  these  parts  were 
like  the  wheels  of  some  excellent  machine,  un- 
skilfully put  together;  and  hence,  if  not  abso- 
lutely refusing  to  go,  for  want  of  proper  adjust- 
ment, yet  going,  at  best,  only  according  to  our 
expressive  word,  bunglingly.  The  enactments  of 
the  last  session,  have,  to  no  inconsiderable  extent, 
adjusted  the  relative  parts  of  this  machinery,  in 
an  admirable  manner ;  and  it  now  only  remains 
for  the  people  to  do  their  part,  by  vigorously 
applying  the  power  that  is  to  move  it. 

For  instance,  the  law  formerly  compelled  towns, 
under  a  penalty,  to  choose  school  committees;  and 
it  accumulated  such  an  amount  of  duties  upon 
these  officers,  that  the  efficiency,  nay,  I  might 
almost  say,  the  very  existence,  of  the  schools,  for 
any  useful  purpose,  depended  upon  their  intelli- 
gence and  fidelity;  and  yet,  because  this  law 
provided  no  compensation  for  their  services,  nor 
even  indemnity  for  their  actual  expenses,  it  left 
the  whole  weight  of  private  interest  gravitating 
against  public  duty.  In  the  apprehension  of 
many  persons,  too,  there  seemed  to  be  something 
of  officiousness  and  obtrusion,  when  the  commit- 
tees entered  earnestly  and  faithfully  upon  the 
discharge  of  the  legal  obligations  they  had  as- 
sumed. An  office  was  lightly  esteemed  to  which 
public  opinion  attached  no  rank,  and  the  law  no 
emolument.  It  was  an  office,  too,  in  which  fidel- 
ity often  gave  offence,  and  one  whose  duties  were 
always  deemed  burdensome,  and  but  rarely  ac- 
counted honorable.  Hence,  the  punctilious  dis- 
charge of  its  various  duties,  required  a  higher 
degree  of  public  spirit,  or  ia  greater  enthusiasm  in 
the  noble  cause  of  education,  than  the  present  con- 
dition of  our  society  is  likely  to  furnish.  Besides, 
many  towns  circumvented  the  law;  for,  though 


65 

the  law  had  provided  that  the  office  of  school  com- 
mittee man  should  not  lie  dormant,  yet  it  could 
make  no  such  wakeful  provision  in  regard  to  the 
officer.  Hence,  school  committees  were  not  un fre- 
quently chosen,  by  the  towns,  with  a  tacit,  and 
sometimes,  even,  with  an  express  understanding, 
that  they  were  to  sleep  during  the  whole  of  the 
school  terms,  and  only  to  rouse  themselves  up  in 
sufficient  season  to  make  such  an  annual  Return, 
as  would  secure  a  share  of  the  income  of  the  school 
fund  to  their  respective  towns.  But  this  condition 
of  things  is  now  changed.  By  the  late  law,  school 
committees  are  hereafter  to  receive  a  moderate 
compensation  for  services  rendered, — or,  at  least,  a 
sufficient  sum  to  reimburse  the  expenses  which 
they  actually  incur.  Is  it  too  much,  therefore,  for 
us  now  to  say,  in  regard  to  these  officers,  that,  not 
only  their  own  townsmen,  but  the  friends  of  educa- 
tion generally,  have  a  right  to  expect,  that  they  will 
so  fulfil  the  requisitions  of  the  law,  that  a  looker- 
on  may  know  what  the  law  is,  by  seeing  what  the 
committees  do,  as  well  as  he  could,  by  reading 
its  provisions  in  the  pages  of  the  statute  book  7 
Is  this  demand  loo  great,  when  we  consider  the 
claims  which  the  office  has  upon  the  effi^rts  of  all 
wise  and  benevolent  men  7  The  committees  are 
to  prescribe  the  books  which  are  to  be  used  in  the 
schools.  They  are  to  see  that  every  child  whose 
parents  are  unable  to  supply  it  with  books,  is 
supplied  at  the  expense  of  the  town.  They  are 
to  visit  every  district  school  soon  after  its  opening, 
and  shortly  before  its  close,  and  once  a  month 
during  its  continuance ; — and  this  duty  of  visita- 
tion, let  me  say,  means  something  more  than  just 
stopping,  when  engaged  on  some  other  errand  oi 
business,  fastening  a  horse  at  the  schoolhouse 
door,  and  going  in  for  a  few  rtiinutes  to  rest  or  (o 
warm.  Emphatically, — I  would  speak  it  with 
ten  fold  emphasis, — they  are  to  see  that  none  but 
6* 


66 

the  very  best  persons  who  can  possibly  be  pro- 
cured, are  put  in  as  keepers  of  that  inestimable, 
unutterable  treasure,  the  children  of  the  district. 

Another  provision  of  the'  late  law  requires  the 
committee  of  each  town  to  keep  a  record,  in  a  per- 
manent form,  of  all  their  acts,  votes,  and  proceed- 
ings ;  and,  at  the  end  of  their  official  year,  to  de- 
liver the  record-book  to  their  successors  in  office. 

If  the  affairs  of  the  pettiest  manufacturing  cor- 
poration cannot  be  systematically  nor  economi- 
cally conducted,  without  a  sworn  clerk,  and  the 
registration  of  every  corporate  act,  must  not  the 
incomparably  greater  interests  of  the  schools  suf- 
fer, if  all  the  orders  and  regulations  of  the  school 
committees  have  no  other  depository,  nor  means 
of  verification  in  case  of  dispute,  than  the  uncer- 
tainty of  human  memory,  and  the  faithlessness 
of  oral  testimony? 

A  far  more  important  duty  imposed  upon  school 
committees  by  the  new  law, — one  which  will 
form  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  education  in  Mas- 
sachusetts,— is  that  of  making  to  the  towns,  an- 
nually, a  "detailed"  report  of  the  condition  of 
the  schools,  "designating  particular  improvements 
and  defects  in  the  methods  or  means  of  education, 
and  stating  such  facts  and  suggestions  in  relation 
thereto,  as,  in  their  opinion,  will  best  promote 
the  interests,  and  increase  the  usefulness  of  said 
schools."  The  significance  of  this  provision  lies 
in  the  word  ''^detailedP  The  reports  are  to  be 
specific,  not  general.  They  are  to  expose  errors 
and  abuses,  and  to  be  accompanied  by  plans  for 
their  rectification.  They  are  to  particularize  im- 
provements, and  to  devise  the  means  for  their 
attainment.  The  mere  fact  of  knowing  that  a 
report  must  be  made  at  the  end  of  the  year,  will 
attract  the  attention  of  committee  men  to  a  vari- 
ety of  facts,  and  will  suggest  numerous  consider- 
ations, which  would  otherwise  elude  both  their 


67 

observation  and  reflection.  We  are  so  constituted 
that,  the  moment  we  have  a  fixed  purpose  in  our 
minds,  there  arises,  at  once,  a  sort  of  elective 
affinity  between  that  purpose  and  its  related 
ideas;  and  the  latter  will  come,  one  after  another, 
and,  as  it  were,  crystallize  around  the  former. 
Besides,  no  man  ever  comprehends  his  own  views 
clearly  and  definitely,  or  ever  avails  himself  of 
all  the  resources  of  his  own  mind,  until  he  reduces 
his  thoughts  to  writing,  or  embodies  them  in  some 
visible,  objective  form.  To  make  a  "detailed 
report,"  which  is  based  upon  facts,  which  will  be 
useful  to  the  town,  and  creditable  to  the  commit- 
tee, will  doubtless  require  great  attention  and 
forethought.  But  if  school  committees  perform 
this  duty  with  half  that  far-reaching  sagacity,  that 
almost  incredible  thoroughness,  which  is  always 
displayed  by  those  town-agents  who  are  chosen 
to  employ  counsel,  and  hunt  up  evidence,  in 
pauper-cases,  such  reports  will  be  most  invalu- 
able documents.  And  yet  the  manner  in  which 
this  duty  is  performed  will  settle  the  question 
prospectively,  for  many  a  child,  whether  he  shall 
be  a  pauper  or  not, — not  the  question  of  the  body's 
pauperism  only,  but  of  the  soul's  pauperism. 

These  annual  reports  of  the  committees  are  by 
law  to  be  deposited  with  the  town  clerk.  They 
are  to  be  transcribed,  and  the  copy  forwarded 
to  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  for  the  use 
of  the  Board  of  Education.  Each  succeeding 
year,  therefore,  there  will  be  placed  in  the  hands 
of  the  Board,  three  hundred  reports,  describing 
the  condition. of  the  schools,  in  every  part  of  the 
State,  with  more  or  less  particularity  and  ability, 
according  to  the  intelligence  and  fidelity  of  the 
respective  committees.  It  seems  to  me  that  selec- 
tions may  then  be  made, — if  the  worjc  is  not  too 
great, — of  the  most  instructive  portions  of  the 
whole  body  of  these  reports.     Let  a  volume  con- 


68 

sisting  of  these  selections  be  transmitted  to  every 
town  in  the  State.  Each  town  will  then  receive 
back  its  own  contribution,  in  a  permanent  form, 
multiplied  by  the  contributions  of  three  hundred 
other  towns.  Such  a  course,  if  adopted,  will  make 
known  to  all,  the  views,  the  plans  and  experi- 
ments of  each.  It  will  be  a  Multiplying-glass, 
increasing  each  beam  of  light,  three  hundred 
times.  I  venture  to  predict  that,  hereafter,  no 
document  will  be  found  to  transcend  these,  in 
value,  and  in  the  interest  and  gratitude  they  will 
inspire.  Posterity  will  here  see  what  was  done 
for  them  by  their  fathers.  Surely,  the  interest 
inherent  in  these  records,  cannot  be  less  than  that 
which  has  lately  led  the  Commonwealth  to  pub- 
lish those  Colonial  and  Revolutionary  papers, 
which  trace  out  the  very  paths  in  the  wilderness, 
through  which,  under  the  guidance  of  the  pillar 
and  the  cloud,  our  fathers  came  out  of  the  land  of 
Egypt  and  out  of  the  house  of  bondage.  Com- 
pared with  the  bondage  of  ignorance  and  vice, 
Pharaoh  was  clement  and  his  task-masters  mer- 
ciful. 

Another  provision  of  the  law  requires  that 
Registers,  in  such  form  as  shall  be  prescribed  by 
the  Board  of  Education,  shall  be  kept  in  all  the 
schools.  As  a  means  of  collecting  accurate  sta- 
tistics, registers  are  indispensable.  They  will 
also  reveal  a  fact,  to  the  existence  of  which  the 
public  eye  seems  almost  wholly  closed.  I  mean 
the  amount  or  extent  of  non-attendance  upon  our 
schools,  and  the  enormous  losses  thereby  occa- 
sioned. In  the  hand  of  an  adroit  teacher,  too, 
the  register  may  be  made  an  efficient  means  of 
remedying  that  irregularity  of  attendance  which 
it  discloses.  If  the  school  is  what  it  should  be, 
the  remark  will  be  literally  true,  that  every  mark 
in  the  register  indicating  a  vacancy  in  the  child's 
seat  at  school,  will  indicate  a  corresponding  va- 
cuum in  his  mind. 


69 

But,  before  I  go  on  to  speak  of  other  provisions 
of  the  law,  perhaps  there  may  be  a  class  of  per- 
sons ready  to  ask, — "  Why  all  this  interference? 
Why  this  obtrusion  of  the  State  into  the  concerns 
of  the  individual?  Are  not  our  children,"  say 
they,  ''our  own?  Who  can  be  presumed  to  care 
more  for  them  than  we  do?  And  whence  your 
authority,"  they  demand,  "  to  fetter  our  free-will, 
and  abridge  our  sovereignty  in  their  manage- 
ment?" The  vagabond,  the  drunkard,  the  mon- 
ster-parent who  wishes  to  sell  his  children  to 
continuous  labor, — who,  for  the  pittance  of  money 
ihey  can  earn,  is  willing  they  should  grow  up  with- 
out schooling,  without  instruction,  and  be  used, 
year  after  year,  as  parts  of  machinery, — these 
may  cry  out  to  the  Legislature, — "  By  what  right 
do  you  come  between  us  and  our  offspring?  By 
what  right  do  you  appoint  a  Board  of  Education 
and  a  Secretary  to  pry  into  our  domestic  arrange- 
ments, and  take  from  us  our  parental  rights? 
We  wish  to  be  our  own  Board  of  Education  and 
Secretary  also."  Such  questions  may,  perhaps, 
be  honestly  put,  and  therefore  should  be  soberly 
answered. 

The  children,  whom  parents  have  brought  into 
this  world,  are  carried  forwards  by  the  ceaseless 
flow  of  time,  and  the  irresistible  course  of  nature, 
and  will  soon  be  men.  They  are  daily  gathering 
forces  and  passions  of  fearful  energy,  soon  to  be 
expended  upon  society.  The  powers  of  citizen- 
ship, which  reach  every  man's  home  and  every 
man's  hearth,  will  soon  be  theirs.  In  a  brief 
space,  these  children  will  have  the  range  of  the 
whole  community,  and  will  go  forth  to  pollute  or 
to  purify,  to  be  bane  or  blessing  to  those  who  are 
to  live  with  them,  and  to  come  after  them.  On 
the  day  when  their  minority  ceases,  their  parents 
will  deliver  them  over,  as  it  were,  into  the  hands 
of  society,  without  any  regard  to  soundness  or 


70 


unsoundness  in  their  condition.  Forthwith,  that 
society  has  to  assume  the  entire  responsibiUty  of 
their  conduct  for  life ; — for  society,  in  its  collective 
capacity,  is  a  real,  not  a  nominal  sponsor  and 
godfather  for  all  its  children.  Society  has  no 
option  whether  to  accept  or  to  reject  them.  Society 
cannot  say  to  any  parent^  "  Take  back  this  felon- 
brood  of  yours;  we  never  ordered  any  such 
recruits;  we  know  not  what  to  do  with  them^ 
we  dread  them,  and  therefore  we  will  not  receive 
them;" — but  society  must  equally  accept  them^ 
whether  they  are  pieces  of  noblest  workmanship^ 
inwrought  with  qualities  of  divinest  beauty  and 
excellence,  or  whether  they  are  mere  trumpery 
and  gilded  pasteboard,  impossible  to  be  thought 
of  for  any  useful  purpose.  Now,  in  those  cases 
from  which  the  objectors  draw  their  analogies, 
the  circumstances  are  totally  different.  If  I  make 
a  general  contract  with  my  neighbor  for  an  article 
of  merchandize,  the  intendment  of  the  law  is, 
that  it  shall  be,  at  least,  of  a  fair,  merchantable 
quality ; — and  if  it  be  valueless,  or  even  materially 
defective,  in  stock  or  workmanship,  the  law  exon- 
erates me  from  all  obligation  to  receive  it.  I  may 
cast  it  back  into  the  hands  of  the  producer,  and 
make  the  loss  wholly  his,  not  mine.  So  if,  for  a 
sound  price,  I  contract  with  a  dealer  to  furnish 
me  a  horse  for  a  specified  journey  or  business,  and 
he,  instead  of  providing  for  me  an  animal  suitable 
for  the  object  stipulated,  sends  me  an  old  hack, 
whose  only  merit  is  that  one  might  study  all  the 
diseases  of  farriery  upon  him, — there  is  not  a 
court  or  jury  in  the  country  but  would  make  the 
fraudulent  jockey  take  back  the  beast,  and  pay 
smart-money,  and  all  the  costs  of  litigation.  But 
not  so,  when  parents  deliver  over  to  the  commu- 
nity a  son  who  carries  the  poison  of  asps  beneath 
his  glistening  tongue;  or  a  daughter,  who,  from 
her  basilisk  eye,  streams  guilt  into  whomsoever 


71 

she  looks  upon.  Twenty-one  years  after  a  child's 
birth, — and  often  mucli  earlier  than  that, — ^be  he 
sot,  brawler,  libeller,  poisoner,  lyncher, — society 
has,  none  the  less,  to  take  him  into  her  bosom, 
and  bear  his  stings  and  stabs; — and  this,  as  I 
suppose,  is  the  reason  why  all  those  good  citizens 
who  care  what  they  have  in  their  bosoms,  have 
^n  undoubted  right  to  take  these  precautions 
beforehand. 

Another  provision  of  law,  which  transfers  the 
power  to  select  and  employ  teachers,  from  the 
prudential  to  the  town's  committee, — unless  the 
town  shall  otherwise  order, — is  worthy  of  com- 
mendation. While  this  arrangement  allows  a 
continuance  of  the  old  system,  in  towns  where  it 
is  preferred,  it  proposes  a  course  which  is  far  better, 
and  which  is  sure  to  be  adopted  just  as  fast  as 
the  interests  of  education  and  the  best  means  of 
promoting  it,  become  better  understood  and  more 
appreciated  by  the  community. 

But  not  inferior  in  importance  to  any  of  the  pre- 
ceding, is  another  law,  passed  by  the  Legislature 
at  its  last  session.  It  is  not  a  compulsory,  but  a 
permissive  enactment.  You  doubtless  anticipate, 
that  I  refer  to  the  law  which  authorizes  the  union 
of  two  or  more  existing  school  districts,  so  as  to 
form  a  Union  or  Central  school,  for  teaching  more 
advanced  studies  to  the  older  children. 

Heretofore  the  practice,  in  most  towns,  has  been, 
to  subdivide  territory  into  smaller  and  smaller 
districts;  and  this  practice  has  drawn  after  it 
the  calamitous  consequences  of  stinted  means, 
and  of  course,  cheap  schoolhouses,  cheap  teachers 
and  short  schools.  Under  this  weakening  process, 
many  of  our  children  have  fared  like  southern 
fruits  in  a  northern  clime,  where,  owing  to  the 
coldness  of  the  soil  and  the  shortness  of  the  sea- 
son, they  never  more  than  half  ripen.  Immature 
fruits,  at  the  close  of  the  year,  are  not  only  val- 


72 

ueless,  but  they  sometimes  breed  physical  diseases , 
but  such  diseases  are  a  blessing  compared  to  those 
moral  distempers  which  must  be  engendered, 
when  immature  minds,  fermenting  with  unsound 
principles,  are  sent  forth  into  the  community. 
The  prevailing  argument,  in  favor  of  the  subdi- 
vision of  districts,  has  been  the  inconvenience  of 
sending  small  children,  great  distances,  to  school. 
The  new  law  remedies  this  difficulty.  It  allows 
the  continuation  of  existing  districts  for  the  small 
scholars,  while  it  invites  the  union  of  two  or 
more  of  them  for  the  accommodation  of  the  larger 
ones.  As  the  benefits  of  this  arrangement  are  set 
forth  in  my  supplementary  Report  to  the  Board 
of  Education,  on  schoolhouses,  (pp.  30,  31,)  I 
need  not  dwell  upon  them  here.  On  reference  to 
that  report,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  advantages  to 
the  older  scholars,  attending  the  union  or  central 
school,  will  be  more  than  doubled,  at  a  diminished 
expense.  Nor  will  the  benefits  of  this  arrange- 
ment, to  the  small  children,  be  less, — particularly, 
because  it  will  secure  to  them  the  more  congenial 
influences  of  female  teaching. 

I  believe  there  will  soon  be  an  entire  unanimity 
in  public  sentiment  in  regarding  female  as  supe- 
rior to  male  teaching  for  young  children.  As  a 
iplain  man  of  excellent  sense  once  said  to  me,  "  A 
woman  will  find  out  where  a  child's  mind  is, 
quickest."  I  may  add,  that  she  will  not  only  find 
where  a  child's  mind  is,  more  quickly  than  a  man 
would  do,  but  she  will  follow  its  movements  more 
readily;  and,  if  it  has  gone  astray,  she  will  lead  it 
back  into  the  right  path  more  gently  and  kindly. 

Under  our  present  system,  the  proportion  of  the 
female  to  the  male  teachers,  in  our  public  schools, 
is  about  as  three  to  two.  This  disparity  of  num- 
bers may  be  increased  with  advantage  to  all,  both 
as  to  quantity  and  quality  of  instruction.  It  is 
also    universally  known  that  there  is,   in  our 


73 

community,  a  vast  amount  of  female  talent,  of 
generous,  philantlnopic  purpose,  now  unappropri- 
ated. It  lies  waste  and  dormant  for  want  of 
some  genial  sphere  of  exercise;  and  its  possessors 
are  thereby  half  driven,  from  mere  vacuity  of 
mind,  and  the  irritation  of  unemployed  faculties, 
to  the  frivolities  and  despicableness  of  fashion, 
to  silly  amusements,  or  to  reading  silly  books, 
merely  to  kill  time,  which,  properly  understood, 
means  killing  one's  self  I  trust  there  are  many 
noble-minded  young  women  amongst  us,  whose 
souls  are  impatient  of  a  degradation  to  that  idle- 
ness and  uselessness  to  which  false  notions  of 
rank  and  wealth  would  consign  them ;  and  who 
would  rejoice,  in  some  form,  either  as  public 
servants  or  as  private  benefactors,  to  enter  this 
sphere  of  useful,  beneficent  employment.  As  the 
tone  of  society  now  is,  the  daughters  of  the  poor 
do  not  suffer  more  from  a  want  of  the  comforts 
and  the  refinements  of  life  than  the  daughters  of 
the  rich  do,  from  never  knowing  or  feeling  what 
the  high  destinies  of  woman  are.  But  it  is  begin- 
ning to  be  perceived  that  the  elevation  of  the 
character,  the  condition  and  the  social  rank  of 
tlie  female  sex,  produced  by  Christianity  and  other 
conspiring  causes,  has,  by  conferring  new  priv- 
ileges, also  imposed  new  duties  upon  them. 

In  reference  to  this  topic,  I  wish  it  to  be  con- 
sidered more  deeply  than  it  has  ever  yet  been, 
whether  there  be  not,  in  truth,  a  divinely  ap- 
pointed ministry  for  the  performance  of  the  earlier 
services  in  the  sacred  temple  of  education.  Is 
there  not  an  obvious,  constitutional  difference  of 
temperament  between  the  sexes,  indicative  of  a 
prearranged  fitness  and  adaptation,  and  making 
known  to  us,  as  by  a  heaven-imparted  sign, 
that  woman,  by  her  livelier  sensibility  and  her 
quicker  sympathies,  is  the  forechosen  guide  and 
guardian  of  children  of  a  tender  age?  After  s 
7 


74 

child's  mind  has  acquired  some  toughness  and 
induration,  by  exposure  for  a  few  years  to  the 
world's  hardening  processes,  then  let  it  be  sub- 
jected to  the  firmer  grasp,  to  the  more  forcible, 
subduing  power  of  masculine  hands.  But  when 
the  infant  spirit,  Avhich  even  too  rude  an  embrace 
would  wound,  is  first  ushered  into  this  sharp  and 
thorny  life,  let  whatever  the  gross  earth  contains 
of  gentleness,  of  ethereal  delicacy,  of  loving  tender- 
ness, be  its  welcomer,  and  cherish  it  upon  its  hal- 
cyon bosom,  and  lead  it  as  by  still  waters.  And 
why  should  woman,  lured  by  a  false  ambition  to 
shine  in  courts  or  to  mingle  in  the  clashing  tumults 
of  men,  ever  disdain  this  sacred  and  peaceful 
ministry  ?  Why,  renouncing  this  serene  and 
blessed  sphere  of  duty,  should  she  ever  lift  up  her 
voice  in  the  thronged  market-places  of  society, 
higgling  and  huckstering  to  barter  away  that 
divine  and  acknowledged  superiority  iji  sentiment 
which  belongs  to  her  own  sex,  to  extort  confes- 
sions from  the  other,  of  a  mere  equality  in  reason  7 
Why,  in  self-debasement,  should  she  ever  strive 
to  put  off  the  sublime  affections  and  the  ever- 
beaming  beauty  of  a  seraph,  that  she  may  clothe 
a  coarser,  though  it  should  be  a  stronger  spirit,  in 
the  stalworth  limbs  and  hugeness  of  a  giant? 
Nature  declares  that  whatever  has  the  robustness 
of  the  oak,  shall  have  its  ruggedness  also.  To  no 
portion  of  her  works  has  she  at  once  given  pre- 
eminence both  in  strength  and  in  grace.  If  the 
intellect  of  woman,  like  that  of  man,  has  the 
sharpness  and  the  penetrancy  of  iron  and  of  steel, 
it  must  also  be  as  cold  and  as  hard.  No  !  but  to 
breathe  pure  and  exalted  sentiments  into  young 
and  tender  hearts, — to  take  the  censers  which 
Heaven  gives,  and  kindle  therein  the  incense 
which  Heaven  loves, — this  is  her  high  and  holy 
mission.  To  be  the  former  of  wise  and  great 
minds,  is  as  much  more  noble  than  to  be  wise  and 


75 

great,  as  the  creative  is  higher  than  the  created. 
In  camps  or  senates,  she  could  shine  but  for  a 
day,  and  with  a  fitful  light ;  but  if,  with  enduring 
patience  and  fidelity,  she  fulfils  her  sacred  duties 
to  childhood,  then,  from  the  sanctuary  of  her  calm 
and  sequestered  life,  there  will  go  forth  a  reful- 
gent glory  to  irradiate  all  countries  and  all  cen- 
turies. The  treasures  of  virtue  are  self-perpetu- 
ating and  self-increasing,  and  when  she  gathers 
them  into  young  hearts,' to  grow  with  their  growth 
and  strengthen  with  their  strength,  she  makes 
Time  so  rich  an  almoner,  that  though  he  goes 
strowing  and  scattering  his  blessings  over  the 
earth  and  over  the  ages,  yet  he  will  never  be  im- 
poverished, but  only  so  much  the  more  abound. 
The  loftiest  spirits,  the  finest  geniuses  of  pagan 
antiquity  passed  by  the  gods  of  the  deep  and  full- 
flowing  river  with  moderated  reverence,  but,  nicely 
true  to  a  moral  and  a  religious  instinct,  they  bore 
their  richest  offerings  and  paid  their  deepest 
homage  to  the  goddess  who  presided  at  the  foun- 
tain. 

But  amongst  all  the  auspicious  events  of  the 
past  year,  ought  not  the  friends  of  popular  edu- 
cation to  be  most  grateful,  on  account  of  the  offer 
made  by  a  private  gentleman^  to  the  Legislature, 
of  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  upon  the  con- 
ditions that  the  State  should  add  thereto  an  equal 
sum,  and  that  the  amount  should  be  expended, 
under  the  direction  of  the  Board  of  Education,  in 
qualifying  teachers  for  our  Common  Schools,  and 
of  the  promptness  and  unanimity  with  which  the 
Legislature  acceded  to  the  proposition?  I  say, 
the  unanimity,  for  the  vote  was  entirely  unani- 
mous in  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  there 
was  but  one  nay  in  the  Senate.  Vast  donations 
have  been  made  in  this  Commonwealth,  both  by 
the  government  and  by  individuals,  for  the  cause 

*  Hon.  Edmund  Dwij^ht,  of  Boston. 


of  learning  in  some  of  its  higher,  and,  of  course, 
more  limited  departments ;  but  I  believe  this  to 
be  the  first  instance  where  any  considerable  sum 
has  been  given  for  the  cause  of  education,  gener- 
ally, and  irrespective  of  class,  or  sect,  or  party. 
Munificent  donations  have  frequently  been  made, 
amongst  ourselves,  as  well  as  in  other  States  and 
countries,  to  perpetuate  some  distinctive  theory  or 
dogma  of  one's  own,  or  to  requite  a  peculiar  few 
who  may  have  honored  or  flattered  the  giver.  But 
this  was  given  to  augment  the  common  mass  of 
intelligence,  and  to  promote  universal  culture ;  it 
was  given  with  a  high  and  enlightened  disregard 
of  all  local,  party,  personal  or  sectional  views ; 
it  was  given  for  the  direct  benefit  of  all  the  heart 
and  all  the  mind,  extant^  or  to  he  extant,  m  our 
beloved  Commonwealth  ;  and,  in  this  respect,  it 
certainly  stands  out  almost,  if  not  absolutely 
alone,  both  in  the  amount  of  the  donation,  and  in 
the  elevation  of  the  motive  that  prompted  it.  I 
will  not  tarnish  the  brightness  of  this  dieedi,  by 
attempting  to  gild  it  with  praise.  One  of  the 
truest  and  most  impressive  sentiments  ever  uttered 
by  Sir  Walter  Scott  is,  hoAvever,  so  appropriate, 
and  forces  itself  so  strongly  upon  my  mind,  that  I 
cannot  repress  its  utterance.  When  that  plain 
and  homely  Scotch  girl,  Jeannie  Deans, — the  high- 
est of  all  the  characters  ever  conceived  by  that 
gifted  author, — is  pleading  her  suit  before  the 
British  queen, — and  showing  herself  therein  to  be 
ten  times  a  queen, — she  utters  the  sentiment  I 
refer  to :  "  But  when,"  says  she,  "  the  hour  of 
trouble  comes  to  the  mind  or  to  the  body,  and  when 
the  hour  of  death  comes,  that  comes  to  high  and 
low,  then  it  isna  what  we  hae  dune  for  oursells, 
but  what  we  hae  dune  for  others,  that  we  think 
on  maist  pleasantly." 

There  is,  then,  at  last,  on  the  part  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  Massachusetts,  a  recognition  of  the 


expediency  of  providing  means  for  the  special 
qualification  of  teachers  for  our  Common  Schools ; 
or,  at  least,  of  submitting  that  question  to  a  fair  ex- 
periment. Let  us  not,  however,  deceive  or  flatter 
ourselves  with  the  belief,  that  such  an  opinion  very 
generally  prevails,  or  is  very  deeply  seated.  A 
few,  and  those,  as  we  believe,  best  qualified  to 
judge,  hold  this  opinion  as  an  axiom.  But  this 
cannot  be  said  of  great  numbers  ;  and  it  requires 
no  prophetic  vision  to  foresee  that  any  plan  for 
carrying  out  this  object,  however  wisely  framed, 
will  have  to  encounter  not  only  the  prejudices  of 
the  ignorant,  but  the  hostility  of  the  selfish. 

The  most  momentous  practical  questions  now 
before  our  state  and  country  are  these  :  In  order 
to  preserve  our  republican  institutions,  must  not 
our  Common  Schools  be  elevated  in  character  and 
increased  in  efficiency?  and,  in  order  to  bring  our 
schools  up  to  the  point  of  excellence  demanded  by 
the  nature  of  our  institutions,  must  there  not  be  a 
special  course  of  study  and  training  to  qualify 
teachers  for  their  office?  No  other  worldly  inter- 
est presents  any  question  comparable  to  these  in 
importance.  To  the  more  special  consideration  of 
the  latter, — namely,  whether  the  teachers  of  our 
public  schools  require  a  special  course  of  study 
and  training  to  qualify  them  for  their  vocation, — 
I  solicit  your  attention,  during  the  residue  of  this 
address. 

I  shall  not  here  insist  upon  any  particular  mode 
of  preparation,  or  of  preparation  in  any  particular 
class  of  institutions, — whether  Normal  Schools, 
special  departments  in  academies,  colleges,  or 
elsewhere, — to  the  exclusion  of  all  other  institu- 
tions. What  I  insist  upon,  is,  not  the  form,  but 
the  substance. 

In  treating  this  subject,  duty  will  require  me  to 
speak  of  errors  and  deficiencies;  and  of  the  inade- 
quate conceptions  now  entertained  of  the  true 
7* 


7S 

office  and  mission  of  a  teacher.  This  is  a  painfu 
obligation,  and  in  discharging  it  I  am  sure  I  shal 
not  be  misunderstood  by  any  candid  and  intelli- 
gent mind.  Towards  the  teachers  of  our  schools, 
— as  a  class, — I  certainly  possess  none  but  the  most 
fraternal  feelings.  Their  want  of  adequate  qual- 
ifications is  th§  want  of  the  times,  rather  than  of 
themselves.  Teachers,  heretofore,  have  only  been 
partakers  in  a  general  error, — an  error  in  v/hich 
you  and  I,  my  hearers,  have  been  as  profoundly 
lost  as  they.  Let  this  be  their  excuse  hitherto, 
and  let  the  ignorance  of  the  past  be  winked  at; 
but  the  best  service  we  can  now  render  them,  is 
to  take  this  excuse  away,  by  showing  the  inade- 
quacy and  the  unsoundness  of  our  former  views. 
Let  all  who  shall  henceforth  strive  to  do  better, 
stand  acquitted  for  past  delinquencies  ;  but  will  not 
those  deserve  a  double  measure  of  condemnation 
who  shall  set  themselves  in  array  against  meas- 
ures, which  so  many  wise  and  good  men  have 
approved, — at  least  until  those  measures  have  been 
fairly  tested?  When  the  tree  shall  have  been 
planted  long  enough  to  mature  its  fruit,  then,  let  it 
be  known  by  its  fruit. 

No  one  has  ever  supposed  that  an  individual 
could  build  up  a  material  temple,  and  give  it 
strength,  and  convenience,  and  fair  proportions, 
without  first  mastering  the  architectural  art ;  but 
we  have  employed  thousands  of  teachers  for  our 
children,  to  build  up  the  immortal  Temple  of  the 
Spirit,  who  have  never  given  to  this  divine,  edu- 
cational art,  a  day  nor  an  hour  of  preliminary 
study  or  attention.  How  often  have  we  sneered  at 
Dogberry  in  the  play,  because  he  holds  that  '•  to 
read  and  write  comes  by  nature;"  when  we  our- 
selves have  undertaken  to  teach,  or  have  employed 
teachers,  whose  only  fitness  for  giving  instruction, 
not  only  in  reading  and  writing,  but  in  all  other 
things^  has  come  by  nature,  if  it  has  come  at  all ; 


79 

— that  is,  in  exact  accordance  with  Dogberry's 
philosophy. 

In  maintaining  the  affirmative  of  this  question, 
—namely,  that  all  teachers  do  require  a  special 
course  of  study  and  training,  to  qualify  them  for 
their  profession, — I  will  not  higgle  with  my  adver- 
sary in  adjusting  preliminaries.  He  may  be  the 
disciple  of  any  school  in  metaphysics,  and  he 
may  hold  what  faith  he  pleases,  respecting  the 
mind's  nature  and  essence.  Be  he  spiritualist  or 
materialist,  it  here  matters  not, — nay,  though  he 
should  deny  that  there  is  any  such  substance  as 
mind  or  spirit,  at  all,  I  will  not  stop  to  dispute 
that  point  with  him, — preferring  rather  to  imitate 
the  example  of  those  old  knights  of  the  tourna- 
ment, who  felt  such  confidence  in  the  justness  of 
their  cause,  that  they  gave  their  adversaries  the 
advantage  of  sun  and  wind.  For,  whatever  the 
mind  may  be,  in  its  inscrutable  nature  or  essence, 
or  whether  there  be  any  such  thing  as  mind  or 
spirit  at  all,  properly  so  called,  this  we  have 
seen  and  do  know,  that  there  come  beings  into 
this  world,  with  every  incoming  generation  of 
children,  who,  although  at  first  so  ignorant, 
helpless,  speechless, — so  incapable  of  all' motion, 
upright  or  rotary, — that  we  can  hardly  persuade 
ourselves  they  have  not  lost  their  way,  and  come, 
by  mistake,  into  the  wrong  world;  yet,  after  a 
few  swift  years  have  passed  away,  we  see  thou- 
sands of  these  same  ignorant  and  helpless  beings, 
expiating  horrible  offences  in  prison  cells,  or  dash- 
ing themselves  to  death  against  the  bars  of  a 
maniac's  cage ; — others  of  them,  we  see,  holding 
"  colloquy  sublime,"  in  halls  where  a  nation's  fate 
is  arbitrated,  or  solving  some  of  the  mightiest 
problems  that  belong  to  this  wonderful  universe ; 
— and  others  still,  there  are,  who,  by  daily  and 
nightly  contemplation  of  the  laws  of  God,  have 
kindled  that  fire  of  divine  truth  within  their 


80 

Dosoms,  by  which  they  become  those  moral  lumi- 
naries whose  light  shineth  from  one  part  of  the 
heavens  unto  the  other.  And  this  amazing  change 
in  these  feeble  and  helpless  creatures, — this  trans- 
figuratfon  of  them  for  good  or  for  evil, — is  wrought 
by  laws  of  organization  and  of  increase,  as  certain 
in  their  operation,  and  as  infallible  in  their  results, 
as  those  by  which  the  skilful  gardener  substitutes 
flowers,  and  delicious  fruits,  and  healing  herbs, 
for  briars  and  thorns  and  poisonous  plants.  And 
as  we  hold  the  gardener  responsible  for  the  pro- 
ductions of  his  garden,  so  is  the  community  respon- 
sible for  the  general  character  and  conduct  of  its 
children. 

Some,  indeed,  maintain, — erroneously  as  we 
believe, — that  a  difference  in  education  is  the  sole 
cause  of  all  the  differences  existing  among  men. 
They  hold  that  all  persons  come  into  the  world 
just  alike  in  disposition  and  capacity,  though  they 
go  through  it  and  out  of  it,  so  amazingly  diverse. 
They  hold,  in  short,  that  if  any  two  men  had 
changed  cradles,  they  would  have  changed  char- 
acters and  epitaphs ; — that,  not  only  does  the  same 
quantity  of  substance  or  essence  go  to  the  consti- 
tution of  every  human  mind,  but  that  all  minds 
are  of  the  same  quality  also, — all  having  the  same 
powers,  and  bearing,  originally,  the  same  image 
and  superscription,  like  so  many  half-dollars  struck 
at  the  government  mint. 

But  deeply  as  education  goes  into  the  core  of 
the  heart  and  the  marrow  of  the  bones,  we  do  not 
claim  for  it  any  such  prerogative.  There  are 
certain  substructures  of  temperament  and  dispp- 
sition,  which  education  finds,  at  the  beginning  of 
its  work,  and  which  it  can  never  wholly  annul. 
Nor  does  it  comport  with  the  endless  variety  and 
beauty  manifested  in  all  other  parts  of  the  Cre- 
ator's works,  to  suppose  that  he  made  all  ears  and 
eyes  to  be  delighted  with  the  same  tunes  and 


81 

colors ;  or  provided  so  good  an  excuse  for  plagia- 
rism, as  that  all  minds  were  made  to  think  the  same 
thoughts.  This  inherent  and  original  diversity, 
however,  only  increases  the  difficulty  of  educa- 
tion, and  gives  additional  force  to  the  argument 
for  previous  preparation ;  for,  were  it  true  that  all 
children  are  born  just  alike,  in  disposition  and 
capacity,  the  only  labor  would  be  to  discover  the 
right  method  for  educating  a  single  child,  and 
to  stereotype  it  for  all  the  rest. 

This,  however,  we  must  concede  to  those  who 
affirm  the  original  equality  and  exact  similitude 
of  all  minds; — namely,  that  all  minds  have  the 
same  elementary  or  constituent  faculties.  This 
is  all  that  we  mean  when  we  say  that  human 
nature  is  everywhere  the  same.  This  is,  in  part, 
what  the  Scriptures  mean  when  they  say,  "God 
hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men.'' 
The  contrasts  among  men  result,  not  from  the 
possession  of  a  different  number  of  original  fac- 
ulties, but  from  possessing  the  same  faculties,  in 
different  proportions,  and  in  different  degrees  of 
activity.  The  civilized  men  of  the  present  day, 
have  neither  more  nor  less  faculties,  in  number^ 
than  their  barbarian  ancestors  had.  If  so,  it 
would  be  interesting  to  ascertain  about  vvhat  year, 
or  century,  a  new  good  faculty  was  given  to  the 
race,  or  an  old  bad  one  was  taken  away.  An 
assembly  of  civilized  men,  on  this  side  of  the 
globe,  convening  to  devise  measures  for  diminish- 
ing the  number  of  capital  crimes,  and  thus  to 
reduce  the  number  of  capital  punishments,  were 
born  with  the  same  number  and  kind  of  faculties, 
— though  doubtless  differing  greatly  m  proportion 
and  in  activity, — with  a  company  of  Battas  island- 
ers, on  the  opposite  side  of  the  globe,  who,  perhaps 
at  the  same  time,  may  be  going  to  attend  the 
holiday  rites  of  a  public  execution,  and,  as  is  their 
wont,  to  dine  on  the  criminal.    As  each  human  face 


82 

has  the  same  number  of  features,  each  human 
body  the  same  number  of  Hmbs,  muscles,  organs, 
&/C.,  so  each  human  soul  has  the  same  capacities 
of  Reason,  Conscience,  Hope,  Fear,  Love,  Self- 
love,  &c.  The  differences  lie  in  the  relative 
strength  and  supremacy  of  these  powers.  The 
human  eye  is  composed  of  about  twenty  distinct 
parts  or  pieces ;  yet  these  constituent  parts  are  so 
differently  arranged  that  one  man  is  far-sighted, 
another  near-sighted.  When  an  oculist  has  mas- 
tered a  knowledge  of  one  eye,  he  knows  the  gen- 
eral plan  upon  which  all  eyes  have  been  formed ; 
but  he  must  still  learn  the  peculiarities  of  each, 
or,  in  his  practice,  he  will  ruin  all  he  touches.* 
When  a  surgeon,  or  an  assassin,  knows  where  one 
man's  heart  is,  he  knows,  substantially,  where 
the  hearts  of  all  other  men  may  be  found.  And 
so  of  the  mind  and  its  faculties.  It  is  because  of 
this  community  of  original  endowments,  that  all 
the  great  works  of  nature  and  art  and  science, 
address  a  common  susceptibility  or  capacity,  exist- 
ing in  all  minds.  It  is  because  of  this  kindred 
nature  that  the  same  earth  is  given  to  us  all,  as  a 
common  residence.  The  possession  by  each  of 
his  complement  of  powers  and'  susceptibilities, 
confers  the  common  nature,  while  the  different 
portions  or  degrees  in  which  they  exist,  and  the 
predominance  of  one  or  a  few  over  the  others, 
break  us  up  into  moral  and  intellectual  classes. 
It  is  impossible  to  vindicate  the  propriety  of 
making  or  of  carrying  a  Revelation  to  the  whole 

*  I  have  heard  that  distinguished  surgeon,  Doct.  John  C.  Warren, 
of  Boston,  relate  the  following  anecdote,  which  happened  to  him  iu 
London  : — Being  invited  to  witness  a  very  difl&cult  operation  upon  the 
hunian  eye,  by  a  celebrated  English  oculist,  he  was  so  much  struck 
by  the  skill  and  science  which  were  exhibited  by  the  operator,  that 
he  sought  a  private  interview  with  him,  to  inquire  by  what  means  he 
had  become  so  accomplished  a  master  of  his  art.  "  Sir,"  said  the 
oculist,  "  I  spoiled  a  hat-full  of  eyes  to  learn  it."  Thus  it  is  with 
incompetent  teachers  ;  they  may  spoil  schoolrooms-full  of  children  to 
learn  now  to  teaich, — and  perhaps  may  not  always  learn  even  then. 


83 

human  race,  unless  that  race  has  common  capaci- 
ties and  wants  to  which  the  revelation  is  adapted. 
And  hence  we  learn  the  appalling  truth, — a  truth 
which  should  strike  "  loud  on  the  heart  as  thunder 
on  the  ear," — that  every  child  born  into  this  world 
has  tendencies  and  susceptibilities  pointing  to  the 
furthest  extremes  of  good  and  evil.  Each  one 
has  the  capacity  of  immeasurable  virtue  or  vice. 
As  each  body  has  an  immensity  of  natural  space 
open  all  around  it,  so  each  spirit,  when  waked 
into  life,  has  an  immensity  of  moral  space  open 
all  around  it.  Each  soul  has  a  pinion  by  which 
it  may  soar  to  the  highest  empyrean,  or  swoop 
downwards  to  the  Tartarean  abyss.  In  the  fee- 
blest voice  of  infancy,  there  is  a  tone  which  can 
be  made  to  pour  a  sweeter  melody  into  the  sym- 
phonies of  angels,  or  thunder  a  harsher  discord 
through  the  blasphemies  of  demons.  To  plume 
these  wings  for  an  upper  or  a  nether  flight;  to 
lead  these  voices  forth  into  harmony  or  dissonance; 
to  woo  these  beings  to  go  where  they  should  go, 
and  to  be  what  they  should  be, — does  it,  or  does 
it  not,  my  friends,  require  some  knowledge,  some 
anxious  forethought,  some  enlightening  prepara- 
tion? 

You  must  pardon  me,  if  on  this  subject  I  speak 
to  you  with  great  plainness ;  and  you  must  allow 
me  to  appeal  directly  to  your  own  course  of  con- 
duct in  other  things.  You  have  property  to  be 
preserved  for  the  support  of  your  children  while 
you  live,  or,  when  you  die,  for  their  patrimony; 
you  have  health  and  life  to  be  guarded  and  con- 
tinued, that  they  may  not  be  bereaved  of  their 
natural  protectors; — and  you  have  the  children 
themselves,  with  their  unbounded,  unfathomable 
capacities  of  happiness  and  misery.  Now,  in 
respect  to  your  property,  what  is  it  your  wont  to 
do,  when  a  young  lawyer  comes  into  the  village, 
erects  his  sign,  and,  (the  most  unexclusive  of 


84 

men,)  gives  to  the  public  a  general  invitation? 
Though  he  has  a  diploma  from  a  college,  and 
the  solemn  approval  of  bench  and  bar,  yet  how 
warily  do  the  public  approach  him.  How  much 
he  is  reconnoitred  before  he  is  retained.  How 
many  premeditated  plans  are  laid  to  appear  to 
meet  him  accidentally,  to  talk  over  indifferent  sub- 
jects with  him, — the  weather,  the  crops,  or  Con- 
gressional matters, — in  order  to  measure  him,  and 
probe  him,  and  see  if  there  be  any  hopefulness  in 
him.  And  should  all  things  promise  favorably,  the 
young  attorney  is  intrusted,  in  the  first  instance, 
only  with  some  outlawed  note,  or  some  doubtful 
account,  before  a  justice  of  the  peace.  No  man 
ever  thinks  of  trusting  a  case  which  involves  the 
old  homestead,  to  his  inexperienced  hands.  He 
would  as  soon  set  fire  to  it. 

So,  too,  of  a  young  physician.  No  matter  from 
what  medical  college,  home  or  foreign,  he  may 
bring  his  credentials.  From  day  to  day  the  neigh- 
bors watch  him  without  seeming  to  look  at  him. 
In  good-wives'  parties,  the  question  is  confiden- 
tially discussed,  whether,  in  a  case  of  exigency, 
it  would  be  safe  to  send  for  him.  And  when,  at 
last,  he  is  gladdened  with  a  call,  it  is  only  to  look 
at  some  surface  ailment,  or  to  pother  a  little  about 
the  extremities.  Nobody  allows  him  to  lay  his 
unpractised  hand  upon  the  vitals.  Now  this  com- 
mon sentiment, — this  common  practice  of  man- 
kind,— is  only  the  instinctive  dictate  of  prudence. 
It  is  only  a  tacit  recognition  of  a  truth  felt  by  all 
sensible  men,  that  there  are  a  thousand  ways  to 
do  a  thing  wrong,  but  only  one  to  do  it  right. 
And  if  it  be  but  reasonable  to  exercise  such  vigi- 
lance and  caution,  in  selecting  a  healer  for  our 
bodies  which  perish,  or  a  counsellor  for  our  worldly 
estates,  who  shall  assign  limits  to  the  circumspec- 
tion and  fidelity  with  which  the  teachers  of  our 
children  should  be  chosen,  who,  in  the  space  of  a 


85 

few  short  years,  or  even  months,  will  determine, 
as  by  a  sort  of  predestination,  upon  so  much  of 
their  future  fortunes  and  destiny  ] 

Again ;  it  is  the  universal  sense  of  mankind, 
that  skill  and  facility,  in  all  other  things,  depend 
upon  study  and  practice.  We  always  demand 
more,  where  opportunities  have  been  greater.  We 
stamp  a  man  with  inferiority,  though  he  does  ten 
times  better  than  another,  if  he  has  had  twenty 
times  the  advantages.  We  know  that  a  skilful 
navigator  will  carry  a  vessel  through  perilous 
straits,  in  a  gale  of  wind,  and  save  cargo  and 
lives,  while  an  ignorant  one  will  wreck  both,  in 
a  broad  channel.  With  what  a  song  of  delight 
we  have  all  witnessed,  how  easily  and  surely 
that  wise  and  good  man,  at  the  head  of  a  great 
institution  in  our  own  State,  will  tame  the  ferocity 
of  the  insane ;  and  how,  when  each  faculty  of  a 
fiery  spirit  bursts  away  like  an  affrighted  steed 
from  its  path,  this  mighty  tamer  of  madmen  will 
temper  and  quell  their  wild  impetuosity  and  restore 
them  to  the  guidance  of  reason.  Nay,  the  great 
moral  healer  can  do  this,  not  to  one  only,  but  to 
hundreds,  at  a  time;  while,  even  in  a  far  shorter 
period  than  he  asks  to  accomplish  such  a  wonder- 
ful work,  an  ignorant  and  passionate  teacher  will 
turn  a  hundred  gentle,  confiding  spirits  into  rebels 
and  anarchists.  And,  my  hearers,  we  recognize 
the  existence  of  these  facts,  we  apply  these  obvi- 
ous principles,  to  every  thing  but  to  the  education 
of  our  children. 

Why  cannot  we  derive  instruction  even  from 
the  folly  of  those  wandering  show-men  who  spend 
a  life  in  teaching  brute  animals  to  perform  won- 
derful feats?  We  have  all  seen,  or  at  least  we 
have  all  heard  of,  some  learned  horse,  or  learned 
pig,  or  learned  dog.  Though  the  superiority  over 
their  fellows,  possessed  by  these  brute  prodigies, 
may  have  been  owing,  in  some  degree,  to  the 
8 


86 

possession  of  greater  natural  parts,  yet  it  must  be 
mainly  attributed  to  the  higher  competency  of 
their  instructer.  Their  teacher  had  acquired  a 
deeper  insight  into  their  natures;  his  sagacious 
practice  had  discovered  the  means  by  which  their 
talents  could  be  unfolded  and  brought  out.  How- 
ever unworthy  and  even  contemptible,  therefore, 
the  mere  trainer  of  a  dog  may  be,  yet  he  illus- 
trates a  great  principle.  By  showing  us  the  supe- 
riority of  a  well-trained  dog,  he  shows  what  might 
be  the  superiority  of  a  well-trained  child.  He 
shows  us  that  higher  acquisitions, — what  may  be 
called  academical  attainments, — in  a  few  favored 
individuals  of  the  canine  race,  are  not  so  much 
the  results  of  a  more  brilliant  genius  on  the  part 
of  the  dog-pupil,  as  they  are  the  natural  reward 
and  consequence  of  his  enjoying  the  instructions 
of  a  professor  who  has  concentrated  all  his  ener- 
gies upon  dog-teaching. 

Surely  it  will  not  be  denied  that  a  workman 
should  understand  two  things  in  regard  to  the 
subject-matter  of  his  work ;— first,  its  natural  prop- 
erties, qualities  and  powers ;  and  secondly^  the 
means  of  modifying  and  regulating  them,  with  a 
view  to  improvement.  In  relation  to  the  mechanic 
arts,  this  is  admitted  by  all.  Every  body  knows 
that  the  strength  of  the  blow  must  be  adjusted  to 
the  malleability  of  the  metal.  It  will  not  do  to 
strike  glass  and  flint,  either  with  the  same  force  or 
with  the  same  implements ;  and  the  proper  instru- 
ment will  never  be  selected  by  a  person  ignorant  of 
the  purpose  to  be  effected  by  its  use.  If  a  man 
working  on  wood,  mistakes  it  for  iron,  and  attempts 
to  soften  it  in  the  fire,  his  product  is — ashes.  And 
so  if  a  teacher  supposes  a  child  to  have  but  one 
tendency  and  one  adaptation  when  he  has  many ; 
— if  a  teacher  treats  a  child  as  though  his  nature 
were  wholly  animal,  or  wholly  intellectual,  or 
wholly  moral   and   religious,  he   disfigures  and 


87 

mutilates  the  nature  of  that  child,  and  wrenches 
his  whole  structure  into  deformity. 

The  being,  Man.  is  more  complex  and  diversi- 
fied in  constitution  and  more  variously  endowed 
in  faculties,  than  any  other  earthly  work  of  the 
Creator.  It  is  in  this  assemblage  of  powers  and 
prerogatives  that  his  strength  and  majesty  reside. 
They  constitute  his  sovereignty  and  lordship  over 
the  creation  around  him.  By  our  bodily  organ- 
ization we  are  adapted  to  the  material  world  in 
which  we  are  placed ; — our  eye  to  the  light,  which 
makes  known  to  us  every  change  in  the  form,  mo- 
tion, color,  position,  of  all  objects  within  visual 
range; — our  ear  and  tongue  to  the  air,  which 
flows  around  us  in  silence,  yet  is  forever  ready  to 
be  waked  into  voice  and  music; — our  hand  to 
all  the  cunning  works  of  art  which  subserve 
utility  or  embellishment.  Still  more  wonderfully 
does  the  spiritual  nature  of  man  befit  his  spiritual 
relations.  Whatever  there  is  of  law,  of  order, 
of  duty,  in  the  works  of  God,  or  in  the  progressive 
conditions  of  the  race,  all  have  their  spiritual 
counterparts  within  him.  By  his  perceptive  and 
intellectual  faculties,  he  learns  the  properties  of 
created  things,  and  discovers  the  laws  by  which 
they  are  governed.  By  tracing  the  relation  be- 
tween causes  and  effects,  he  acquires  a  kind  of 
prophetic  vision  and  power;  for,  by  conforming 
to  the  unchanging  laws  of  Nature,  he  enlists  her 
in  his  service,  and  she  works  with  him  in  fulfilling 
his  predictions.  Regarded  as  an  individual,  and 
as  a  member  of  a  race  which  reproduces  itself 
and  passes  away,  his  lower  propensities, — those 
.which  he  holds  in  common  with  the  brutes, — are 
the  instincts  and  means  to  preserve  himself  and 
to  perpetuate  his  kind ;  while  by  his  tastes,  and 
by  the  social,  moral  and  religious  sentiments  of 
which  he  is  capable,  he  is  attuned  to  all  the  beau- 
ties and  sublimities  of  creation,  his  heart  is  made 


88 

responsive  to  all  the  delights  of  friendship  and 
domestic  affection,  and  he  is  invited  to  hold  that 
spiritual  intercourse  with  his  Maker,  which  at 
once  strengthens  and  enraptures. 

Now  the  voice  of  God  and  of  Nature  declares 
audibly  which  of  these  various  powers  within  us 
are  to  command,  and  which  are  to  obey ;  and  with 
which,  in  every  questionable  case,  resides  the 
ultimate  arbitrament.  Even  the  lowest  propensi- 
ties are  not  to  be  wholly  extirpated.  Within  the 
bounds  prescribed  by  the  social  and  the  divine 
law,  they  have  their  rightful  claims.  But  the 
moral  and  the  religious  sentiments, — Benevolence, 
Conscience,  Reverence  for  the  All-creating  and 
All-bestowing  Power, — these  have  the  prerogative 
of  supremacy  and  absolute  dominion.  These  are 
to  walk  the  halls  of  the  soul,  like  a  god,  nor  suf- 
fer rebellion  to  live  under  their  eye.  Yet  how 
easy  for  this  many-gifted  being  to  fall, — more 
easy,  indeed,  because  of  his  many  gifts.  Some 
subject-faculty,  some  subordinate  power,  in  this 
spiritual  realm,  unfortimately  inflamed,  or, — what 
is  far  more  common, — unwisely  stimulated  by  an 
erroneous  education,  grows  importunate,  exorbi- 
tant, aggrandizes  itself,  encroaches  upon  its  fel- 
low-faculties, until,  at  last,  obtaining  the  mas- 
tery, it  subverts  the  moral  order  of  the  soul,  and 
wages  its  parricidal  war  against  the  sovereignty 
of  conscience  within,  and  the  laws  of  society  and 
of  Heaven  without.  And  how  unspeakably  dread- 
ful are  the  retributions  which  come  in  the  train 
of  these  remorseless  usurpers,  when  they  obtain 
dominion  over  the  soul.  Take,  for  instance,  the 
earliest-developed,  the  most  purely  selfish  and 
animal  appetite  that  belongs  to  us, — that  for  nour- 
ishing beverage.  It  is  the  first  which  demands 
gratification  after  birth.  Subjected  to  the  laws  of 
temperance,  it  will  retain  its  zest,  fresh  and  genial, 
for  threescore  years  and  ten,  and  it  affords  the 


S3 

last  corporal  solace  upon  earth  to  the  parched  lips 
of  the  dying  man.  Yet,  if  the  possessor  of  this 
same  pleasure-giving  appetite  shall  be  incited, 
either  by  examples  of  inordinate  indulgence,  or 
by  festive  songs  in  praise  of  the  vine  and  the  wine- 
cup,  to  inflame  it,  and  to  feed  its  deceitful  fires, 
though  but  for  the  space  of  a  few  short  years, 
then  the  spell  of  the  sorcerer  will  be  upon  him ; 
and,  day  by  day,  he  will  go  and  cast  himself  into 
the  fiery  furnace  which  he  has  kindled; — nor  him- 
self, the  pitiable  victim,  alone,  but  he  will  seize 
upon  parents  and  wife  and  his  group  of  innocent 
children,  and  plunge  with  them  all  into  the  seeth- 
ing hell  of  intemperance. 

/  So  there  is,  in  human  nature,  an  innate  desire 
of  acquiring  property, — of  owning  something, — 
of  using  the  possessives  my  and  mine.  Within 
proper  limits,  this  instinct  is  laudably  indulged. 
Its  success  affords  a  pleasure  in  which  reason  can 
take  a  part.  It  stimulates  and  strengthens  many 
other  faculties.  It  makes  us  thoughtful  and  fore- 
thoughtful. It  is  the  parent  of  industry  and  fru- 
gality,— and  industry  and  frugality,  as  we  all 
know,  are  blood-relations  to  the  whole  family  of 
the  virtues.  But  to  the  eye  and  heart  of  one  in 
whom  this  love  of  acquisition  has  become  absorb- 
ing and  insane,  all  the  diversified  substances  in 
creation  are  reduced  to  two  classes, — that  which 
is  gold,  and  that  which  is  not ; — and  all  the  works 
of  Nature  are  valued  or  despised,  and  the  laws 
and  institutions  of  society  uphold  or  assailed,  as 
they  arc  supposed  to  be  favorable  or  unfavorable 
to  the  acquisition  of  wealth./  Whether  at  home 
or  abroad,  in  the  festive  circle  or  in  the  funeral 
train ;  whether  in  hearing  the  fervid  and  thrilling 
appeals  of  the  sanctuary,  or  the  pathos  of  civic 
eloquence,  one  idea  alone, — that  of  money,  money, 
money. — holds  possession  of  the  miser's  soul ;  its 
voice  rings  forever  in  his  ear ;  and  were  he  in  the 
8* 


90 

garden  of  Eden, — its  beauty,  and  music,  and  per- 
fume suffusing  all  his  senses, — his  only  thought 
would  be,  how  much  money  it  would  bring  ! 
Such  mischief  comes  from  giving  supremacy  to  a 
subordinate,  though  an  essential  and  highly  use- 
ful faculty.  This  mischief,  to  a  greater  or  less  ex- 
tent, parents  and  teachers  produce,  when,  through 
an  ignorance  of  the  natural  and  appropriate  meth- 
ods of  inducing  children  to  study,  they  hire  them 
to  learn  by  the  offer  of  pecuniary  rewards. 

So,  too,  we  all  have  an  innate  love  for  whatever 
is  beautiful ; — a  sentiment  that  yearns  for  higher 
and  higher  degrees  of  perfection  in  the  arts,  and 
in  the  embellishments  of  life, — a  feeling  which 
would  prompt  us  to  "gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the 
lily,  to  throw  a  perfume  on  the  violet,  and  add 
another  hue  unto  the  rainbow."  Portions  of  the 
external  world  have  been  exquisitely  adapted  to 
this  inborn  love  of  the  beautiful,  by  Him  who  has 
so  clothed  the  lilies  of  the  field  that  they  outshine 
Solomon  in  all  his  glory.  This  sentiment  may 
be  too  much  or  too  little  cultivated; — so  little  as 
to  make  us  disdain  gratifications  that  are  at  once 
innocent  and  pure ;  or  so  much  as  to  over-refine 
us  into  a  hateful  fastidiousness.  In  the  works  of 
nature,  beauty  is  generally,  if  not  always,  subor- 
dinated to  utility.  In  cases  of  incompatibility, 
gracefulness  yields  to  strength,  not  strength  to 
gracefulness.  How  would  the  rising  sun  mock 
us  with  his  splendor,  if  he  brought  no  life  or  warmth 
in  his  beams.  The  expectation  of  autumnal  har- 
vests enhances  the  beauty  of  vernal  bloom.  These 
manifestations  of  nature  admonish  us  respecting 
the  rank  which  ornament  or  accomplishment 
should  hold  in  the  character  and  in  the  works  of 
men;  and,  of  course,  in  the  education  of  children. 
Christ  referred  occasionally  to  the  beauties  and 
charms  of  nature,  but  dwelt  perpetually  upon  the 
obligations  of  duty  and  charity.     But  what  oppo- 


91 

site  and  grievous  offences  are  committed  on  this 
subject  by  different  portions  of  society.  The 
laboring  classes,  by  reason  of  early  parental  neg- 
lect in  cultivating  a  love  for  the  beautiful,  often 
forego  pleasures  which  a  bountiful  Providence 
scatters  profusely  and  gratuitously  around  them, 
and  strows  beneath  their  feet;  while  there  is  a 
class  of  persons  at  the  other  extremity  of  the  social 
scale,  who,  from  never  comprehending  the  im- 
measurable value  of  the  objects  for  which  they 
were  created,  and  the  vast  beneficence  of  which, 
from  their  wealth  and  station,  they  are  capable, 
actually  try  every  thing,  however  intrinsically 
noble  or  sacred,  by  some  conventional  law  of 
fashion,  by  some  arbitrary  and  capricious  stand- 
ard of  elegance.  In  European  society,  this  class 
of  "  fashionables"  is  numerous.  They  have  their 
imitators  here, — beings,  who  are  not  men  and 
women,  but  similitudes  only, — who  occupy  the 
vanishing  point  in  the  perspective  of  society, 
where  all  that  is  true,  or  noble,  or  estimable  in 
human  nature,  fades  away  into  nothing.  With 
this  class  it  is  no  matter  what  a  man  does  with 
the  '*  Ten  Commandments,"  provided  he  keeps 
those  of  Lord  Chestertield ;  and,  in  their  society. 
Beau  Brummel  would  take  precedence  of  Dr. 
Franklin. 

In  a  Report  lately  made  by  the  Agricultural 
Commissioner  for  the  survey  of  this  Common- 
wealth, I  noticed  a  statement  respecting  some 
farmers  in  the  northern  part  of  the  county  of 
Essex,  who  attempted  to  raise  sun-flowers  for  the 
purpose  of  extracting  oil  from  the  seeds.  Twenty 
bushels  to  the  acre  was  the  largest  crop  raised  by 
any  one.  Six  bushels  of  the  seed  yielded  but  one 
gallon  of  oil,  worth,  in  the  market,  one  dollar  and 
seventeen  cents  only.  It  surely  required  no  great 
boldness  to  assert  that  the  experiment  did  not  suc- 
ceed:— cultivation,  one  acre;  product,  three  gal- 


/ 


92 

Ions  of  oil ;  value,  three  dollars  and  fifty  cents  !— 
which  would,  perhaps,  about  half  repay  the  cost 
of  labor.  Woe  to  the  farmer  who  seeks  for  inde- 
pendence by  raising  sun-flowers  !  Ten  times  woe 
to  the  parents  who  rear  up  sun-flower  sons  or  sun- 
flower daughters, — instead  of  sons  whose  hearts 
glow  and  burn  with  an  immortal  zeal  to  run  the 
noble  career  of  usefulness  and  virtue  which  a 
happy  fortune  has  laid  open  before  them ; — in- 
stead of  daughters  who  cherish  such  high  resolves 
of  duty  as  lift  them  even  above  an  enthusiasm  for 
greatness,  into  those  loftier  and  serene  regions 
where  greatness  comes  not  from  excitement,  but 
is  native,  and  ever-springing  and  ever-abiding. 
Every  son,  whatever  may  be  his  expectations  as 
to  fortune,  ought  to  be  so  educated  that  he  can 
superintend  some  part  of  the  complicated  ma- 
chinery of  social  life ;  and  every  daughter  ought 
to  be  so  educated  that  she  can  answer  the  claims 
of  humanity,  whether  those  claims  require  the 
labor  of  the  head  or  the  labor  of  the  hand.  Every 
daughter  ought  to  be  so  trained  that  she  can  bear, 
with  dignity  and  self-sustaining  ability,  those  revo- 
lutions in  Fortune's  wheel,  which  sometimes  bring 
the  kitchen  up  and  turn  the  parlor  down. 
/Again;  we  have  a  natural,  spontaneous  feeling 
of  self-respect,  an  innate  sense  that,  simply  in  our 
capacity  as  human  beings,  we  are  worth  some- 
thing, and  entitled  to  some  consideration.  This 
principle  constitutes  the  interior  frame-work  of 
some  of  the  virtues,  veiled,  indeed,  by  their  own 
beautiful  covering,  but  still  necessary  in  order  to 
keep  them  in  an  erect  posture,  amidst  all  the  over- 
bearing currents  and  forces  of  the  world.  Where 
this  feeling  of  self-respect  exists  too  weakly,  the 
whole  character  becomes  limber,  flaccid,  impotent, 
sinks  under  the  menace  of  opposition,  and  can 
be  frightened  out  of  anything  or  into  anything. 
On  the  other  hand,  when  this  propensity  aggran- 


93 

dizes  itself,  and  becomes  swollen  and  deformed 
with  pride,  and  conceit,  and  intolerance,  it  is  a 
far  more  offensive  nuisance  than  many  of  those 
which  the  law  authorizes  us  to  abate,  summarily, 
by  force  and  arms.  Our  political  institutions  are 
a  rich  alluvium  for  the  growth  of  self-esteem;  for, 
while  every  body  knows  that  there  are  the  greatest 
differences  between  men  in  point  of  honesty,  of 
abihty,  of  will  to  do  good  and  to  promote  right, 
yet  our  fundamental  laws, — and  rightly  too, — 
ordain  a  political  equality.  But  what  is  not  right 
is,  that  the  political  equality  is  the  fact  mainly 
regarded,  while  there  is  a  tendency  to  disregard 
the  intellectual  and  moral  inequalities.  And  thus 
a  faculty,  designed  to  subserve,  and  capable  of 
subserving  the  greatest  good,  engenders  a  low 
ambition,  and  fills  the  land  with  the  war-whoop 
of  party  strife.   / 

These  are  specimens  only  of  a  long  list  of  origi- 
nal tendencies  or  attributes  of  the  human  mind, 
from  a  more  full  enumeration  and  exposition  of 
which,  I  must,  on  this  occasion,  refrain.  But  have 
not  enough  been  referred  to,  to  authorize  us  to  as- 
sert the  general  doctrine,  that  every  teacher  ought 
to  have  some  notions,  clear,  definite,  and  com- 
prehensive, of  the  manifold  powers, — the  various 
nature, — of  the  beings  confided  to  his  hands,  so 
that  he  may  repress  the  redundancy  of  a  too  luxu- 
riant growth,  and  nourish  the  feeble  with  his  fos- 
tering care  ?  No  idea  can  be  more  erroneous  than 
that  children  go  to  school  to  learn  the  rudiments 
of  knowledge  only,  and  not  to  form  character. 
The  character  of  children  is  always  forming.  No 
place,  no  companion  is  without  an  influence  upon 
it ;  and  at  school  it  is  formed  more  rapidly  than 
any  where  else.  The  mere  fact  of  the  presence  of 
so  many  children  together,  puts  the  social  or  dis- 
social nature  of  each  into  fervid  action.  To  be 
sent  to  school,  especially  in  the  country,  is  often 


94 

as  great  an  event  in  a  child's  life,  as  it  is,.in  his 
father's,  to  be  sent  to  the  General  Court ;  and  we 
all  know  with  what  unwonted  force  all  things 
affect  the  mind,  in  new  places  and  nnder  new 
circumstances.  Every  child,  too,  wli^n  he  first 
goes  to  school,  understands  that  he  is  put  upon 
his  good  behavior;  and,  with  man  or  child,  it  is 
a  very  decisive  thing,  and  reaches  deep  into  char- 
acter and  far  into  futurity,  when  put  upon  his 
good  behavior,  to  prove  recreant.  Now,  teachers 
take  children  under  their  care,  as  it  were,  during 
the  first  warm  days  of  the  spring  of  life,  when 
more  can  be  done  towards  directing  their  growth 
and  modifying  their  dispositions,  than  can  be 
done  in  years,  at  a  later  season  of  their  exist- 
ence. 

Equally  indispensable  is  it,  that  every  teacher 
should  know,  by  what  means, — by  virtue  of  what 
natural  laws, — the  human  powers  and  faculties 
are  sirengthened  or  enfeebled.  There  is  a  prin- 
ciple running  through  every  mental  operation, — 
without  a  knowledge  of  which,  without  a  knowl- 
edge how  to  apply  which,  the  life  of  the  most 
faithful  teacher  will  be  only  a  succession  of  well- 
intentioned  errors.  The  growth  or  decline  of  all 
our  powers  depends  upon  a  steadfast  law.  There 
is  no  more  chance  in  the  processes  of  their  growth 
or  decay  than  there  is  in  the  Multiplication  Table. 
They  grow  by  exercise,  and  they  lose  tone  and 
vigor  by  inaction.  All  the  faculties  have  their 
related  objects,  and  they  grow  by  being  excited 
to  action  through  the  stimulus  or  instrumentahty 
of  those  objects.  Each  faculty,  too,  has  its  own 
set  or  class  of  related  objects;  and  the  classes 
of  related  objects  differ  as  much  from  each  other, 
as  do  the  corresponding  faculties  which  they 
naturally  excite.  If  any  one  power  or  faculty, 
therefore,  is  to  be  strengthened,  so  as  to  perform 
its  office  with  facility,  precision   and   despatch, 


95 

that  identical  faculty, — not  any  other  one, — must 
be  exercised.  It  does  not  strengthen  my  left  arm 
to  exercise  my  right ;  and  this  is  just  as  true  of 
the  powers  of  the  mind,  as  of  the  organs  of  the 
body.  The  whole  pith  of  that  saying  of  Solomon, 
"Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go," 
consists  in  this  principle,  because  "to  train "  means 
to  drill,  to  repeat,  to  do  the  same  thing  over  and 
over  again, — that  is,  to  exercise.  Solomon  does 
not  say,  "  Tell  a  child  the  way  he  should  go,  and 
when  he  is  old,  he  will  not  depart  from  it."  Had 
he  said  this,  we  could  refute  him  daily  by  ten 
thousand  facts.  Unfortunately,  education  amongst 
us,  at  present,  consists  too  much  in  tellings  not  in 
trainings  on  the  part  of  parents  and  teachers; 
and,  of  course,  in  hearings  not  in  doing,  on  the 
part  of  children  and  pupils.  The  blacksmith's 
right  arm,  the  philosopher's  intellect,  the  philan- 
thropist's benevolence,  all  grow  and  strengthen 
according  to  this  law  of  exercise.  The  farmer 
works  solid  flesh  upon  his  cattle;  the  pugilist 
strikes  vigor  into  his  arms  and  breast;  the  foot 
soldier  marches  strength  into  his  limbs;  the  prac- 
tical man  thinks  quickness  and  judgment  into  his 
mind;  and  the  true  Christian  lives  his  prayers 
of  love  and  his  thoughts  of  mercy,  until  every  man 
becomes  his  brother.  Our  own  experience  and 
observation  furnish  us  with  a  life-full  of  evidence 
attesting  this  principle.  How  did  our  feet  learn  to 
walk,  our  fingers  to  write,  our  organs  of  speech  to 
utter  an  innumerable  variety  of  sounds?  Hy  what 
means  does  llie  musician  pass  from  coarse  discords 
to  perfect  music, — from  hobbling  and  shambling 
in  his  measure,  to  keeping  time  like  a  chronom- 
eter,— from  a  slow  and  timid  touch  of  keys  or 
chords,  to  such  celerity  of  movement,  that,  though 
his  will  sends  out  a  thousand  commands  in  a 
minute,  his  nimble  fingers  obey  them  all?  It  is 
this  exercise,  this  repetition,  which  gives  to  jug- 


96 

glers  their  marvellous  dexterity.  By  dint  of 
practice,  their  motions  become  quicker  than  our 
eyesight,  and  thus  elude  inspection.  A  knowledge 
of  this  principle  solves  many  of  the  riddles  of 
life,  by  showing  us  whence  comes  the  domineer- 
ing strength  of  human  appetites  and  passions.  It 
comes  from  exercise, — from  a  long  indulgence  of 
them  in  thought  and  act, — until  the  offspring  of 
sinful  desire  turn  back,  and  feast  upon  the  vitals 
of  the  wretch  who  nurtured  them.  It  is  this 
which  makes  the  miser  pant  and  raven  for  gain, 
more  and  more,  just  in  proportion  to  the  shortness 
of  the  life  during  which  he  can  enjoy  it.  It  is 
this  which  sends  the  drunkard  to  pay  daily  tribute 
to  his  own  executioner.  It  is  this  which  scourges 
back  the  gambler  to  the  hell  he  dreads. 
/  It  is  by  this  law  of  exercise  that  the  perceptive 
and  reflective  intellect, — I  mean  the  powers  of 
observing  and  judging, — arc  strengthened.  If, 
therefore,  in  the  education  of  the  child,  the  action 
of  these  powers  is  early  arrested;  if  his  whole 
time  is  engrossed  and  his  whole  energy  drawn 
away,  by  other  things;  or,  if  he  is  not  supplied 
with  the  proper  objects  or  apparatus  on  which 
these  faculties  can  exert  themselves, — then  the 
after-life  of  such  a  child  will  be  crowded  with 
practical  errors  and  misjudgments.  As  a  man,  his 
impressions  of  things  will  be  faint  and  fleeting; 
he  will  never  be  able  to  describe  an  object  as  he 
saw  it,  nor  to  tell  a  story  as  he  heard  it.  No 
handicrafts-man  or  mechanic  ever  becomes  what 
we  call  a  first-rate  workman,  until  after  innumer- 
able experiments  and  judgments, — that  is,  repe- 
titions, or  exercises.  And  the  rule  is  the  same 
even  with  genius; — artisan  or  artist,  he  must 
practise  long  and  sedulously  upon  lines,  propor- 
tions, reliefs,  before  he  can  become  the  first  sculp- 
tor of  the  age,  or  the  first  boot-maker  in  the  city. 
The  teacher,  then,  must  continue  to  exercise  the 


97 

powers  of  his  pupils,  until  he  secures  accuracy 
even  in  the  minutest  things  he  teaches./  Every 
child  can  and  should  learn  to  judge,  almost  with 
mathematical  exactness,  how  long  an  inch  is ; — 
no  matter  if  he  does  not  guess  within  a  foot  of  it 
the  first  time.  Whether  the  story  of  Casper  Hau- 
ser  be  true  or  not,  it  has  verisimilitude,  and  is 
therefore  instructive.  It  warns  us  what  the  general 
result  must  be,  if,  by  a  non-presentation  of  their 
related  objects,  the  faculties  of  a  child  are  not 
brought  into  exercise.  We  meet  with  persons, 
every  day,  who,  in  regard  to  some  one  or  more 
of  the  faculties,  are  Casper  Hausers.  This  hap- 
pens, almost  universally,  not  through  any  natural 
defect,  but  because  parents  and  teachers  have 
been  ignorant,  either  of  the  powers  to  be  exer- 
cised, or  of  the  related  objects  through  whose 
instrumentality  they  can  be  excited  to  action. 

But  here  arises  a  demand  for  great  skill,  ap- 
titude and  resources,  on  the  part  of  the  teacher; 
for,  by  continuing  to  exercise  the  same. faculty,  I 
do  not  mean  a  monotonous  repetition  of  the  same 
action,  nor  a  perpetual  presentation  of  the  same 
object  or  idea.  Such  a  course  would  soon  cloy 
and  disgust,  and  thus  terminate  all  effort  in  that 
direction.  Would  a  child  ever  learn  to  dance,  if 
there  were  but  one  figure;  or  to  sing,  if  there  were 
but  one  tune  1  Nature,  science,  art,  oflfer  a  bound- 
less variety  of  objects  and  processes,  adapted  to 
quicken  and  employ  each  of  the  faculties.  These 
resources  the  teacher  should  have  at  his  command, 
and  should  make  use  of  them,  in  the  order,  and 
for  the  period,  that  each  particular  case  may 
require.  Look  into  the  shops  of  our  ingenious 
artisans  and  mechanics,  and  see  their  shining 
rows  of  tools, — hundreds  in  number, — but  each 
adapted  to  some  particular  process  in  their  curi- 
ous art.  Look  into  the  shop  or  hut  of  a  savage, 
an  Indian  mechanic,  and  you  will  find  his  chest 
9 


98 

of  tools  composed  of  a  single  jack-knife!  So 
with  our  teachers.  Some  of  them  have  appara- 
tus, diagram,  chart,  model ;  they  have  anecdote, 
epigram,  narrative,  history,  by  which  to  illustrate 
every  branch  of  study,  and  to  fit  every  variety 
of  disposition ;  while  the  main  resource  of  others, 
for  all  studies,  for  all  ages  and  for  all  dispositions, 
is — the  rod ! 

Again ;  a  child  must  not  only  be  exercised  into 
correctness  of  observation,  comparison  and  judg- 
ment, but  into  accuracy  in  the  narration  or 
description  of  what  he  has  seen,  heard,  thought 
or  felt,  so  that,  whatever  thoughts,  emotions,  mem- 
ories, are  within  him,  he  can  present  them  all  to 
others  in  exact  and  luminous  words.  Dr.  John- 
son said,  "accustom  your  children  constantly  to 
this;  if  a  thing  happened  at  one  window,  and  they, 
when  relating  it,  say  that  it  happened  at  another, 
do  not  let  it  pass,  but  instantly  check  them.  You 
do  not  know  where  deviation  from  the  truth  will 
end."  Every  man  who  sees  effects  in  causes,  will 
fully  concur  with  the  Doctor  in  regard  to  the  value 
of  such  a  habit  of  accuracy  as  is  here  implied 
If.  in  the  narration  of  an  event,  or  in  the  recita- 
tion of  a  lesson,  a  child  is  permitted  to  begin  at 
the  last  end  of  it,  and  to  scatter  the  middle  about 
promiscuously,  depend  upon  it,  if  that  child,  after 
growing  up,  is  called  into  court  as  a  witness, 
somebody  will  suffer  in  fortune,  in  reputation,  or 
perhaps  in  life.  When  practising  at  the  bar,  I  was 
once  engaged  in  an  important  case  of  slander, 
where  the  whole  question  of  the  innocence  or  guilt 
of  the  defendant,  turned  upon  the  point,  whether, 
at  a  certain  time,  he  was  seen  out  of  one  window,  or 
out  of  another;  and  the  stupid  witness  first  swore 
that  it  was  one  window,  then  another  window, 
and  at  last,  thought  it  might  be  a  door;  and 
doubtless,  he  could  have  been  made  to  swear  that 
he  saw  him  through  the  sky-light.     Would  you 


99 

appreciate  the  importance  of  accuracy,  in  obser- 
vation and  statement,  take  one  of  those  cases 
which  so  frequently  occur  in  our  courts  of  law, 
where  a  dozen  witnesses, — all  honest, — swear  one 
way,  and  another  dozen, — equally  honest, — coun- 
ter-swear; and  contrast  it  with  a  case,  which  so 
rarely  occurs,  where  a  witness,  whose  mind,  like 
a  copying  machine,  having  taken  an  exact  im- 
pression of  whatever  it  has  seen  or  heard,  attests 
to  complicated  facts,  in  a  manner  so  orderly, 
luminous,  natural, — giving  to  each,  time,  locality, 
proportion,  that  when  he  has  finished,  every  audi- 
tor,— bench,  bar,  spectators, — all  feel  as  though 
they  had  been  personally  present  and  witnessed 
the  whole  transaction.  Now,  although  something 
of  this  depends,  unquestionably,  upon  soundness 
in  physical  and  mental  organization ;  yet  a  vast 
portion  of  it  is  referable  to  the  early  observation 
or  neglect,  on  the  part  of  teacher  or  parent,  of 
the  law  we  are  considering. 

There  is  another  point,  too,  which  the  teacher 
should  regard,  especially  where  only  a  small  por- 
tion of  non-age  is  appropriated  to  school  attend- 
ance. In  exercising  the  faculties  for  the  purpose 
of  strengthening  them,  the  greatest  amount  of  use- 
ful knowledge  should  be  communicated.  The 
faculties  may  be  exercised  and  strengthened  in 
acquiring  useful  or  useless  knowledge.  A  farmer 
or  a  stone-mason  may  exercise  and  strengthen  the 
muscles  of  his  body,  by  pitching  or  rolling  timbers 
or  stones,  backwards  and  forwards ;  but,  by  con- 
verting the  same  materials  into  a  house  or  a  fence, 
he  may  at  once  gain  strength  and  do  good.  Every 
teacher,  at  the  same  time  that  he  exercises  the 
faculties  of  his  pupils,  ought  to  impart  the  greatest 
amount  of  valuable  knowledge;  and  he  should 
always  be  above  the  temptation  of  keeping  a 
pupil  in  a  lower  department  of  study,  because  he 
nimself  does  not  understand  the  higher ;  or,  on 


100 

the  other  hand,  of  prematurely  carrying  his  pupil 
into  a  higher  department,  because  of  his  own 
ignorance  of  the  lower.  Suppose  a  bright  boy, 
for  instance,  to  be  studying  arithmetic  and  geog- 
raphy, at  school.  Now,  arithmetic  cannot  be 
taught  unless  it  is  understood  ;  but,  with  the  help 
of  an  atlas,  and  a  text-book  whose  margin  is  all 
covered  with  questions,  the  business  of  teaching 
geography  may  be  set  up  on  a  very  slender  capital 
of  knowledge.  And  here  a  teacher  who  is  obliged 
to  be  very  economical  of  his  arithmetic,  would  be 
tempted  to  keep  his  pupil  upon  all  the  small 
towns,  and  tiny  rivers,  and  dots  of  islands  in  the 
geography,  in  order  to  delay  him,  and  gain  time, 
— like  the  officers  of  those  banks  whose  specie 
runs  low,  who  seek  to  pay  off  their  creditors  in 
centSj  because  it  takes  so  long  to  count  the  cop- 
per. Every  teacher  ought  to  know  vastly  more 
than  he  is  required  to  teach,  so  that  he  may  be 
furnished,  on  every  subject,  with  copious  illustra- 
tion and  instructive  anecdote;  and  so  that  the 
pupils  may  be  disabused  of  the  notion,  they  are 
so  apt  to  acquire,  that  they  carry  all  knowledge 
in  their  satchels.  Every  teacher  should  be  pos- 
sessed of  a  facility  at  explanation, — a  tact  in  dis- 
cerning and  solving  difficulties, — not  to  be  used 
too  often,  for  then  it  would  supersede  the  effort 
it  should  encourage, — but  when  it  is  used,  to 
be  quick  and  sure  as  a  telescope,  bringing  dis- 
tant objects  near,  and  making  obscure  ones  dis- 
tinct. In  the  important,  but  grossly  neglected  and 
abused  exercise  of  reading,  for  instance,  every 
new  fact,  every  new  idea,  is  news  to  the  child; 
and,  did  he  fully  understand  it,  he  would  be  as 
eager  to  learn  it,  as  we  are  to  learn  what  is  news 
to  us.  But  how,  think  you,  should  we  be  vexed, 
if  our  news-bringer  spoke  every  third  word  in 
a  foreign  language ;  or  gave  us  only  a  Pennsyl- 
vania newspaper   printed  in  German,  when  we 


101 

wanted  to  know  how  their  votes  stood  in  an  elec- 
tion for  President.  Whatever  words  a  child  does 
not  understand,  in  his  reading  lesson,  are,  to  him, 
words  in  a  foreign  language ;  and  they  must  be 
translated  into  his  own  language  before  he  can 
take  any  interest  in  them.  But  if,  instead  of  being 
translated  into  his  language,  they  are  left  unno- 
ticed, or  are  translated  into  another  foreign  lan- 
guage still, — that  is,  into  other  words  or  phrases  of 
which  he  is  ignorant, — then,  the  child,  instead  of 
delightful  and  instructive  ideas,  gets  empty  words, 
mere  sounds,  atmospheric  vibrations  only.  In  Dr. 
Johnson's  Dictionary,  the  word,  "-^ Neiwork^^''  is 
defined  to  be  "any  thing  reticulated  or  decussated, 
with  interstices  between  the  intersections."  Now 
who,  ignorant  of  the  meaning  of  the  word  "net- 
work," before,  would  understand  it  any  better  by 
being  told,  that  it  is  "any  thing  reticulated  or 
decussated,  with  interstices  between  the  intersec- 
tions?" Nor,  would  he  be  much  enlightened,  if, 
on  looking  further,  he  found  that  the  same  author 
had  given  the  following  definitions  of  the  defining 
words: — "reticulated,"  '•'^ formed  with  interstitial 
vacuities ;^^ — "decussated,"  ^^intersected  at  acute 
angles ;^^ — "  interstice,"  "  space  betioeen  one  thing 
arid  another;'^ — "  intersection,"  ^^ point  xohere  lines 
cross  each  other. ^^  If  this  is  not,  as  Milton  says, 
"dark  with  excess  of  bright,"  it  is,  at  least,  "dark- 
ness visible."  A  few  years  since,  a  geography 
was  published  in  this  State, — the  preface  of  which 
boasted  of  its  adaptation  to  the  capacities  of  chil- 
dren ; — and,  on  the  second  page,  there  was  this 
definition  of  the  words  "zenith  and  nadir:" — "ze- 
nith and  nadir,  two  Arabic  words  importing  their 
own  signification.^^  A  few  years  since,  an  Eng- 
lish traveller  and  book-maker,  who  called  himself 
Thomas  Ashe,  Esq.,  visited  the  Big  Bone  Licks, 
in  Kentucky,  where  he  found  the  remains  of  the 
mammoth,  in  great  abundance,  and  whence  he 
9* 


102 

carried  away  several  wagon-loads  of  bones.  In 
describing  the  size  of  one  of  the  shoulder-blades 
of  that  animal,  he  says,  it  "  was  about  as  large 
as  a  breakfast  table  /"  A  child's  mind  may  be  dark 
and  ignorant  before,  but,  under  such  explanations 
as  these,  darkness  will  coagulate,  and  ignorance 
be  sealed  in  hermetically.  Let  a  school  be  so 
conducted  but  for  one  season,  and  all  life  will  be 
abstracted  from  it ;  and  it  will  become  the  pain- 
ful duty  of  the  school  committee,  at  its  close,  to 
attend  a  post  mortem  examination  of  the  children, 
— without  even  the  melancholy  satisfaction  of 
believing  that  science  will  be  benefited  by  the 
horrors  of  the  dissection. 

Every  teacher  should  be  competent  to  some  care 
of  the  health  of  his  pupils, — not  merely  for  the  pur- 
pose of  regulating  the  temperature  of  the  school- 
room, and,  of  course,  the  transition  which  the 
scholars  must  undergo,  on  entering  or  leaving  it, 
— though  this  is  of  no  small  importance,— but  so 
that,  as  occasion  offers,  he  may  inculcate  a  kn9wl- 
edge  of  some  of  the  leading  conditions  upon 
which  health  and  life  depend.  I  saw,  last  year, 
in  the  public  town  school  of  Northampton, — under 
the  care  of  Mr.  R.  M.  Hubbard, — more  than  a 
hundred  boys,  from  ten  or  eleven  to  fifteen  or 
sixteen  years  of  age,  who  pointed  out  the  place 
and  gave  the  name  of  all  the  principal  bones  in 
their  bodies,  as  well  as  an  anatomist  would  have 
done;  who  explained  the  physiological  processes 
of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  and  the  alimenta- 
tion of  food,  and  described  the  putrefactive  action 
of  ardent  spirits  upon  the  delicate  tissues  of  the 
stomach.  Now  such  boys  have  a  chance,  nay,  a 
certainty,  of  far  longer  life  and  far  better  health, 
than  they  would  otherwise  have ;  and  as  they 
grow  up,  they  will  be  far  less  easily  tempted  to 
emulate  either  of  the  three  cockney  graces, — Gin, 
Swearing  and  Tobacco. 


103 

But  I  must  pass  by  other  considerations,  respect- 
ing the  growth  and  invigoration  of  the  intellectual 
faculties,  and  the  classes  of  subjects  upon  which 
they  should  be  employed.  I  hasten  to  the  con- 
sideration of  another  topic,  incalculably  more  im- 
portant. 

The  moral  faculties  increase  or  decline,  strength- 
en or  languish,  by  the  same  law  of  exercise.  In 
legislating  for  men,  actions  are  mainly  regarded ; 
but  in  the  education  of  children,  motives  are  every- 

thi?lg,  MOTIVES   ARE    EVERYTHING.       All,  this  sidc  of 

the  motive,  is  mere  mechanism,  and  it  matters  not 
whether  it  be  done  by  the  hand,  or  by  a  crank. 
There  was  profound  philosophy  in  the  old  theo- 
logical notion,  that  whoever  made  a  league  with 
the  devil,  in  order  to  gratify  a  passion  through 
his  help,  became  the  devil's  property  afterwards. 
And  so,  when  a  teacher  stimulates  a  child  to  the 
performance  of  actions,  externally  right,  by  ap- 
pealing to  motives  intrinsically  wrong,  he  sells 
that  child  into  bondage  to  the  wrong  motive. 
Some  parents,  finding  a  desire  of  luxurious  food 
a  stronger  motive-power  in  their  children  than 
any  other,  accomplish  every  thing  through  its 
means.  They  hire  them  to  go  to  school  and 
learn,  to  go  to  church  and  remember  the  text,  and 
to  behave  well  before  company,  by  a  promise  of 
dainties.  Every  repetition  of  this  enfeebles  the 
sentiment  of  duty,  through  its  inaction,  while  it 
increases  the  desire  for  delicacies,  by  its  exercise ; 
and  as  they  successively  come  into  competition 
afterwards,  the  virtue  will  be  found  to  have 
become  weaker,  and  the  appetite  stronger.  Such 
parents  touch  the  wrong  pair  of  nerves, — the 
sensual  instead  of  the  moral,  the  bestial  instead 
of  the  divine.  These  springs  of  action  lie  at 
the  very  extremes  of  human  nature, — one  class 
down  among  the  brutes,  the  other  up  among  the 
seraphim.    When  a  child,  so  educated;  becomes 


104 

a  man,  and  circumstances  make  him  the  trnstee 
or  fiduciary  of  the  friendless  and  unprotected, 
and  he  robs  the  widow  and  orphan  to  obtain  the 
means  of  luxury  or  voluptuousness,  we  exclaim, 
"  Poor  human  nature,"  and  are  ready  to  appoint  a 
Fast ;  when  the  truth  is,  he  was  educated  to  be  a 
knave  under  that  very  temptation.  Were  a  sur- 
geon to  operate  upon  a  human  body,  with  as  little 
knowledge  of  his  subject  as  this,  and  whip  round 
his  double-edged  knife  where  the  vital  parts  lie 
thickest,  he  would  be  tried  for  manslaughter  at  the 
next  court,  and  deserve  conviction. 

Take  another  example  ; — and  1  instance  one  of 
the  motive-forces  which,  for  the  last  fifty  or  a  hun- 
dred years,  has  been  mainly  relied  on,  in  our 
schools,  academies  and  colleges,  as  the  stimulus  to 
intellectual  effort;  and  which  has  done  more  than 
every  thing  else,  to  cause  the  madness  and  the 
profligacy  of  those  political  and  social  rivalries 
that  now  convulse  the  land.  Let  us  take  a  child 
who  has  only  a  moderate  love  of  learning,  but  an 
inordinate  passion  for  praise  and  place ;  and  we 
therefore  allure  him  to  study  by  the  enticements 
of  precedence  and  applause.  If  he  will  surpass 
all  his  fellows,  we  advance  him  to  the  post,  and 
signalize  him  with  the  badges  of  distinction,  and 
never  suffer  the  siren  of  flattery  to  cease  the  en- 
chantments of  her  song.  If  he  ever  has  any  com- 
passionate misgivings  in  regard  to  the  effect  which 
his  own  promotion  may  have  upon  his  less  bril- 
liant, though  not  less  meritorious  fellow-pupils, 
then  we  seek  to  withdraw  his  thoughts  from  this 
virtuous  channel,  and  to  turn  them  to  the  selfish 
contemplation  of  his  own  brilliant  fortunes  in 
future  years; — if  waking  conscience  ever  whis- 
pers in  his  ear,  that  that  pleasure  is  dishonorable 
which  gives  pain  to  the  innocent ;  then  we  dazzle 
him  with  the  gorgeous  vision  of  triumphal  honors 
and  applauding  multitudes ; — and  when,  in  after- 


105 

life,  this  victim  of  false  influences  deserts  a  right- 
eous cause  because  it  is  declining,  and  joins  an 
unrighteous  one  because  it  is  prospering,  and  sets 
his  nanrie  in  history's  pillory,  to  be  scoffed  and 
jeered  at  for  ages,  then  we  pour  out  lamentations, 
in  prose  and  verse,  over  the  moral  suicide  !  And 
yet,  by  such  a  course  of  education,  he  was  pre- 
pared beforehand,  like  a  skilfully  organized  ma- 
chine, to  prove  a  traitor  and  an  apostate  at  that 
very  conjuncture.  No  doubt,  a  college-boy  will 
learn  more  Greek  and  Latin  if  it  is  generally  un- 
derstood that  college-honors  are  to  be  mainly 
awarded  for  proficiency  in  those  languages ;  but 
what  care  we  though  a  man  can  speak  seven  lan- 
guages, or  dreams  in  Hebrew  or  Sanscrit,  because 
of  their  familiarity,  if  he  has  never  learned  the 
language  of  sympathy  for  human  suffering,  and 
is  deaf  when  the  voice  of  truth  and  duty  utters 
their  holy  mandates'?  We  want  men  who  feel 
a  sentiment,  a  consciousness ,  of  brotherhood  for 
the  whole  human  race.  We  want  men  who  will 
instruct  the  ignorant, — not  delude  them ;  who  will 
succor  the  weak, — not  prey  upon  them.  We  want 
men  who  will  fly  to  the  moral  breach  when  the 
waters  of  desolation  are  pouring  in,  and  who 
will  stand  there,  and,  if  need  be,  die  there, — 
applause  or  no  applause.  No  doubt,  every  one  is 
bound  to  take  watchful  care  of  that  portion  of  his 
happiness  which  rightfully  depends  upon  the  good 
opinion  of  others ;  but  before  any  teacher  attempts 
to  secure  the  proficiency  of  his  pupils  by  inflaming 
their  love  of  praise  and  place,  ought  he  not  to  ap- 
peal, with  earnest  and  prolonged  entreaty,  to  every 
higher  sentiment;  and  even  then,  should  he  fail 
of  arousing  a  desire  for  improvement,  would  it  not 
be  better  to  abandon  a  pupil  to  mediocrity,  or 
even  insignificance,  than  to  ensure  him  the  high- 
est eminence  by  awakening  an  unholy  ambition  in 
his  bosom?    It  is  infinitely  better  for  any  nation 


106 

to  support  a  hospital  for  fools,  than  to  have  a  par- 
liament or  a  congress  of  knaves. 

And  thus  it  is  with  all  moral  developments. 
Ignorance  may  appeal  to  a  wrong  motive,  and 
thus  give  inordinate  strength  to  an  inferior  senti- 
ment, while  honestly  in  quest  of  a  right  action. 
For  a  few  times,  perhaps  even  for  a  few  years, 
the  appeal  may  be  successful;  but,  by  and  by, 
the  inferior  sentiment,  or  propensity,  will  gain  pre- 
dominance, and  usurp  the  throne,  and  rule  by- 
virtue  of  its  own  might. 

So,  too,  a  train  of  circumstances  may  be  pre- 
pared, or  a  system  of  government  adopted,  de- 
signed by  their  author  for  good,  yet  productive 
of  a  venomous  brood  of  feelings.  Suppose  a 
teacher  attempts  to  secure  obedience  by  fear,  in- 
stead of  love,  but  still  lacks  the  energy  or  the 
talent  requisite  for  success.  Forthwith,  and  from 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  there  are  two  hostile  par- 
ties in  that  school, — the  teacher  with  his  govern- 
ment to  maintain,  the  pupils  with  their  various 
and  ever-springing  desires  to  gratify,  in  defiance 
of  that  government.  Not  only  will  there  be  re- 
volts and  mutinies,  revolutions  and  counter-revolu- 
tions in  such  a  school,  but,  what  is  infinitely  worse 
because  of  its  meanness  and  baseness,  there  will 
be  generated  a  moral  pestilence  of  deception  and 
trickery.  The  boldest  spirits, — those  already  too 
bold  and  fool-hardy, — will  break  out  into  open 
rebellion,  and  thus  begin  to  qualify  themselves  to 
become,  in  after-life,  violators  and  contemners  of 
the  laws  of  society ;  while  those  who  are  already 
prone  to  concealment  and  perfidy,  will  sharpen 
their  wits  for  deception  ;  they  will  pretend  to  be 
saying  or  doing  one  thing  when  saying  or  doing 
another  ;  they  will  sever  the  connection  between 
tongue  and  heart;  they  will  make  the  eyes,  the 
face,  and  all  the  organs  that  contribute  to  the 
natural  language,  belie  the  thoughts ;  and,  in  fine, 


107 

will  turn  the  whole  body  into  an  instrument  of 
dissimulation.  Such  children,  under  such  man- 
agement, are  every  day  preparing  to  become, — 
not  men  of  frankness,  of  ingenuousness,  of  a  beau- 
tiful transparency  of  disposition, — but  sappers  and 
miners  of  character, — men  accomplishing  all  their 
ends  by  stratagem  and  ambush,  and  as  full  of 
guile  as  the  first  serpent.  Who  of  us  has  not 
seen  some  individual  so  secretive  and  guileful  as 
to  be  impervious  to  second-sight,  or  even  to  the 
boasted  vision  of  animal  magnetism  1  I  cannot 
but  believe  that  most  of  those  hateful  specimens 
of  duplicity, — I  might  rather  say,  of  triplicity,  or 
multiplicity, — which  we  sometimes  encounter  in 
society,  had  their  origin  in  the  attempts  made  in 
early  life,  to  evade  commands  injudiciously  given, 
or  not  enforced  when  given.  If  any  thing  pertain- 
ing to  the  education  o(  children  demands  discre- 
tion, prudence,  wisdom,  it  is  the  commands  which 
we  impose  upon  them.  In  no  case  ought  a  com- 
mand ever  to  be  issued  to  a  child  without  a  moral 
certainty  either  that  it  will*l)e  voluntarily  obeyed, 
or,  if  resisted,  that  it  can  be  enforced;  because  dis- 
obedience to  superiors,  who  stand  at  first  in  the 
place  of  the  child's  conscience,  prepares  the  way  for 
disobedience  to  conscience  itself,  when  that  faculty 
is  developed.  Hence  the  necessity  of  discrimi- 
nating, as  a  preliminary,  between  what  a  child 
will  do,  or  can  be  made  to  do,  and  the  contrary. 
Hence,  when  disobedience  is  apprehended,  the 
issue  should  be  tried  rather  on  a  case  of  prohi- 
bition than  of  injunction,  because  a  child  can  be' 
deterred  when  he  cannot  be  compelled.  Hence, 
also,  the  necessity  of  discriminating  between  what 
a  child  has  the  moral  power  to  do,  and  what  it  is 
in  vain  to  expect  from  him.  Take  a  child  who  has 
been  brought  up  luxuriously,  indulgently,  selfishly, 
and  command  him,  in  the  first  instance,  to  incur 
some  great  sacrifice  for  a  mere  stranger,  or  for 


108 

some  object  which  he  neither  understands  nor  val- 
ues,  and  disobedience  is  as  certain  as  long  days  in 
the  middle  of  June ; — I  mean  the  disobedience  of 
the  spirit,  for  fear,  perhaps,  may  secure  the  per- 
formance of  the  outward  act.  Such  a  child  knows 
nothing  of  the  impulsions  of  conscience,  of  the  joy- 
ful emotions  that  leap  up  in  the  heart  after  the 
performance  of  a  generous  deed;  and  it  is  as 
absurd  to  put  such  a  weight  of  self-denial  upon 
his  benevolence,  the  first  time,  as  it  would  be  to 
put  a  camel's  load  upon  his  shoulders.  Such  a 
child  is  deeply  diseased.  He  is  a  moral  paralytic. 
In  regard  to  all  benevolent  exertion  a-nd  sacrifice, 
he  is  as  weak  as  an  infant ;  and  he  can  be  recov- 
ered and  strengthened  to  virtuous  resolutions  only 
by  degrees.  What  should  we  think  of  a  physi- 
cian, who,  the  first  time  his  patient  emerged  from 
a  sick  chamber, — ^pallid,  emaciated,  tottering, — 
should  prescribe  a  match  at  wrestling,  or  the  run- 
ning of  races  7  Yet  this  would  be  only  a  parallel 
to  the  mode  in  which  selfish  or  vicious  children 
are  often  treated;  nay,  some  persons  prepare  or 
select  the  most  difiicult  cases, — cases  requiring 
great  generosity  or  moral  intrepidity, — by  which 
to  break  new  beginners  into  the  work  of  benevo- 
lence or  duty.  If,  by  a  bad  education,  a  child  has 
lost  all  generous  affections,  (for  no  child  is  born 
without  them;)  if  he  never  shares  his  books  or 
divides  his  luxuries  with  his  playmates;  if  he 
hides  his  playthings  at  the  approach  of  his  little 
visiters;  if  his  eye  never  kindles  at  the  recital  of  a 
magnanimous  deed, — of  course  I  mean  one  the 
magnanimity  of  which  he  can  comprehend, — then 
he  can  be  won  back  to  kindness  and  justice  only 
by  laborious  processes,  and  in  almost  impercepti- 
ble degrees.  In  every  conversation  before  such 
children,  generosity  and  self-denial  should  be 
spoken  of  with  a  fervor  of  admiration  and  a  glow 
of  sympathy.      Stories  §liould  be   told  or  read 


109 

before  them,  in  which  the  principal  actors  are  sig- 
naUzed  by  some  of  the  qualities  they  dehght  in, 
(always  provided  that  no  element  of  evil  mingles 
with  them,)  and  when  their  attachments  are 
firmly  fastened  upon  hero  or  heroine,  then  the  so- 
cial, amiable  and  elevated  sentiments  which  are 
deficient  in  the  children  themselves,  should  be 
developed  in  the  actors  or  characters  whom  they 
have  been  led  to  admire.  A  child  may  be  led  to 
admire  qualities  on  account  of  their  relationships 
and  associations,  when  he  would  be  indifferent  to 
them  if  presented  separately.  If  a  child  is  selfish, 
the  occasion  for  kind  acts  should  be  prepared, 
where  all  the  accompaniments  are  agreeable. 
As  the  sentiment  of  benevolence  gains  tone  and 
strength,  and  begins  to  realize  some  of  those  ex- 
quisite gratifications  which  God,  by  its  very  con- 
stitution, has  annexed  to  its  exercise,  then  let  the 
collateral  inducements  be  weakened,  and  the  ex- 
periments assume  more  of  the  positive  character 
of  virtue.  In  this  way,  a  child  so  selfish  and  envi- 
ous as  to  be  grieved  even  at  the  enjoyment  of 
others,  may  be  won,  at  last,  to  seek  for  delight  in 
offices  of  humanity  and  self-sacrifice.  There  is 
always  an  avenue  through  which  a  child's  mind 
can  be  reached;  the  failures  come  from  our  want 
of  perseverance  and  sagacity  in  seeking  it.  We 
must  treat  moral  more  as  we  treat  physical  dis- 
tempers. Week  after  week  the  mother  sits  by 
the  sick  bed,  and  welcomes  fasting  and  vigils;  her 
watchfulness  surrounds  her  child,  and  with  all  the 
means  and  appliances  that  wealth  or  life  can  com- 
mand, she  strives  to  bar  up  every  avenue  through 
which  death  can  approach  him.  Did  mothers 
care  as  much  for  the  virtues  and  moral  habits  as 
for  the  health  and  life  of  their  offspring,  would 
they  not  be  as  patient,  as  hopeful,  and  as  long- 
suffering  in  administering  antidote  and  remedy  to 
10 


110 

a  child  who  is  morally,  as  to  one  who  is  physi- 
cally, diseased? 

Is  it  not  in  the  way  above  described, — after  a 
slowly  brightening  twilight  of  weeks,  perhaps  of 
months, — that  the  oculist,  at  last,  lets  in  the  light 
of  the  meridian  sun  upon  the  couched  eye  ?  Is  it 
not  in  this  way,  that  the  convalescent  of  a  fevered 
bed  advances,  from  a  measured  pittance  of  the 
weakest  nutrition,  to  that  audacious  health  which 
spurns  at  all  restraints  upon  appetite,  whether  as 
to  quantity  or  quality?  For  these  healings  of  the 
diseased  eye  or  body,  we  demand  the  professional 
skill  and  science  of  men,  educated  and  trained  to 
the  work ;  nay,  if  any  impostor  or  empiric  wan- 
tonly tampers  with  eye  or  life,  the  injured  party 
accuses  him,  the  officers  of  the  law  arrest  him, 
the  jurors  upon  their  oaths  convict  him,  the  judges 
pass  sentence,  and  the  sheriff  executes  the  man- 
dates of  the  law ; — while  parties,  officers,  jurors, 
judges  and  sheriffs,  with  one  consent,  employ 
teachers  to  direct  and  train  the  godlike  faculties 
of  their  children,  who  never  had  one  hour  of 
special  study,  who  never  received  one  lesson  of 
special  instruction,  to  fit  them  for  their  momentous 
duties. 

If,  then,  the  business  of  education,  in  all  its 
departments,  be  so  responsible;  if  there  be  such 
liability  to  excite  and  strengthen  any  one  faculty 
of  the  opening  mind,  instead  of  its  antagonist; 
if  there  be  such  danger  of  promoting  animal  and 
selfish  propensities  into  command  over  social  and 
moral  sentiments ;  if  it  be  so  easy  for  an  unskilful 
hand  to  adjust  opportunity  to  temptation  in  such 
a  way  that  the  exposed  are  almost  certain  to  fall ; 
if  it  be  a  work  of  such  delicacy  and  difficulty  to 
reclaim  those  who  have  wandered ;  if,  in  fine,  one, 
not  deeply  conversant  with  the  human  soul,  with 
all  its  various  faculties  and  propensities,  and  with 
all  the  circumstances  and  objects  which  naturally 


Ill 

excite  them  to  activity,  is  in  incomparably  greater 
danger  of  touching  the  wrong  spring  of  action, 
than  one  unacquainted  with  music,  is  of  touching 
the  wrong  key  or  chord  of  the  most  compUcated 
musical  instrument, — then,  ought  not  every  one 
of  those  who  are  installed  into  the  sacred  office 
of  teacher,  to  be  "  a  workman  who  needeth  not  to 
be  ashamed  7"  Surely,  they  should  know,  before- 
hand, how  to  touch  the  right  spring,  with  the 
right  pressure,  at  the  right  time. 

There  is  a  terrible  disease  that  sometimes  afflicts 
individuals,  by  which  all  the  muscles  of  the  body 
seem  to  be  unfastened  from  the  volitions  of  the 
mind,  and  then,  after  being  promiscuously  trans- 
posed, to  be  re-fastened ;  so  that  a  wrong  pair  of 
muscles  is  attached  to  every  volition.  In  such  a 
case,  the  afflicted  patient  never  does  the  thing  he 
intends  to  do.  If  he  would  walk  forwards,  his 
will  starts  the  wrong  pair  of  muscles,  and  he 
walks  backwards.  When  he  would  extend  his 
right  arm  to  shake  hands  with  you,  in  salutation, 
he  starts  the  wrong  pair  of  muscles,  thrusts  out 
his  left,  and  slaps  or  punches  you.  Precisely  so 
is  it  with  the  teacher  who  knows  not  what  facul- 
ties of  his  pupils  to  exercise,  and  by  what  objects, 
motives,  or  processes,  they  can  be  brought  into 
activity.  He  is  the  will  of  the  school ;  they  are 
the  body  which  that  will  moves;  and,  through 
ignorance,  he  is  perpetually  applying  his  will  to 
the  wrong  points.  What  wonder,  then,  if,  spend- 
ing day  after  day  in  pulling  at  the  wrong  pairs 
of  muscles,  the  teacher  involves  the  school  in 
inextricable  disorder  and  confusion,  and,  at  last, 
comes  to  the  conviction  that  they  were  never 
made  to  go  right? 

But,  says  an  objector,  can  any  man  ever  attain 
to  such  knowledge  that  he  can  touch  as  he  should 
this  "harp  of  thousand  strings?"  Perhaps  not, 
I  reply ;  but  ask,  in  my  turn,  Cannot  every  man 


112 

know  better  than  he  now  does?  Cannot  some- 
thing be  done  to  make  good  teachers  better,  and 
incompetent  ones  less  incompetent?  Cannot  some- 
thing be  done  to  promote  the  progress  and  to 
diminish  the  dangers  of  all  our  schools  7  Cannot 
something  be  done  to  increase  the  intelligence  of 
those  female  teachers,  to  whose  hands  our  children 
are  committed,  in  the  earliest  and  most  impressible 
periods  of  childhood; — and  thus,  in  the  end,  to 
increase  the  intelligence  of  mothers, — for  every 
mother  is  ex  officio  a  member  of  the  College  of 
Teachers  ?  Cannot  something  be  done,  by  study, 
by  discussion,  by  practical  observation, — and  espe- 
cially by  the  institution  of  Normal  Schools, — 
which  shall  diffuse  both  the  art  and  the  science  of 
teaching  more  widely  through  our  community, 
than  they  have  ever  yet  been  diffused  ? 

My  friends,  you  cannot  go  for  any  considerable 
distance  in  any  direction,  within  the  limits  of  our 
beloved  Commonwealth,  without  passing  one  of 
those  edifices  professedly  erected  for  the  education 
of  our  children.  Though  rarely  an  architectural 
ornament,  yet,  always,  they  are  a  moral  beauty,  to 
the  land  in  which  we  dwell.  Enter  with  me,  for  a 
moment,  into  one  of  these  important,  though  lowly 
mansions.  Survey  those  thickly  seated  benches. 
Before  us  are  clustered  the  children  of  to-day,  the 
men  of  to-morrow,  the  immortals  of  eternity ! 
What  costly  works  of  art ;  what  splendid  galler- 
ies of  sculpture  or  of  painting,  won  by  a  nation's 
arms,  or  purchased  by  a  nation's  wealth,  are  com- 
parable in  value,  to  the  treasures  we  have  in  these 
children?  How  many  living  and  palpitating 
nerves  come  down  from  parents  and  friends,  and 
centre  in  their  young  hearts;  and,  as  they  shall 
advance  in  life,  other  living  and  palpitating  nerves, 
which  no  man  can  number,  shall  go  out  from 
their  bosoms  to  twine  round  other  hearts,  and  to 
feel  their  throbs  of  pleasure  or  of  pain,  of  rapture 


113 

or  of  agony  !  How  many  fortunes  of  others  shall 
be  linked  with  their  fortunes,  and  shall  share  an 
equal  fate.  As  yet,  to  the  hearts  of  these  young 
beings,  crime  has  not  brought  in  its  retinue  of 
fears,  nor  disappointment  its  sorrows.  Their  joys 
are  joys^  and  their  hopes  more  real  than  our  real- 
ities; and,  as  visions  of  the  future  burst  upon 
their  imaginations,  their  eye  kindles,  like  the 
young  eagle's  at  the  morning  sunbeam.  Group- 
ing these  children  into  separate  circles,  and  looking 
forward,  for  but  a  few  short  years,  to  the  fortunes 
that  await  them,  shall  we  predict  their  destiny, 
in  the  terrific  language  of  the  poet : — 

"  These  shall  the  fury  passions  tear, 
The  vultures  of  the  mind, 
Disdainful  Anger,  pallid  Fear, 
And  Shame  that  skulks  behind. 

"  Ambition  (his  shall  tempt  to  rise, 
Then  whirl  the  wretch  trom  high, 
Td  bitter  Scorn  a  sacrifice, 
And  grinning  Infamy. 

-  "  The  stings  of  Falsehood,  those  shall  try, 
And  hard  unkindness'  alter'd  eye 
That  mocks  the  tear  it  forc'd  to  flow ; 
And  keen  Remorse,  with  blood  defiled, 
And  moody  Madness,  laughing  wild. 
Amid  severest  woe  , — " 

or,  concentrating  our  whole  souls  into  one  resolve, 
— ^high  and  prophetically  strong, — that  our  duty 
to  these  children  shall  be  done,  shall  we  proclaim, 
in  the  blessed  language  of  the  Savior; — "It  is 

NOT  THE  WILL  OF  YOUR  FaTHER  WHICH  IS   IN  HEAVEN. 
HESE 

10* 


LECTURE  III 
1839. 


LECTURE  III. 

THE  NECESSITY  OF  EDUCATION  IN  A  REFUBLICAN 
GOVERNMENT. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Convention  : — 

The  common  arguments  in  favor  of  Education 
have  been  so  often  repeated,  that,  in  rising  to 
address  you  on  this  subject,  1  feel  Hke  appealing 
to  your  own  judgment  and  good  sense  to  bear 
testimony  to  its  worth,  rather  than  attempting  to 
make  your  convictions  firmer,  or  your  feehngs 
stronger,  by  any  attestations  of  mine. 
y  I  hardly  need  to  say,  that  by  the  word  Education^ 
I  mean  much  more  than  an  abihty  to  read,  write, 
and  keep  common  accounts.  I  comprehend,  under 
this  noble  word,  such  a  training  of  the  body  as 
shall  build  it  up  with  robustness  and  vigor, — at 
once  protecting  it  from  disease,  and  enabling  it  to 
act,  formatively,  upon  the  crude  substances  of 
nature, — to  turn  a  wilderness  into  cultivated  fields, 
forests  into  ships,  or  quarries  and  clay-pits  into 
villages  and  cities.  I  mean,  also,  to  include  such 
a  cultivation  of  the  intellect  as'  shall  enable  it  to 
discover  those  permanent  and  mighty  laws  which 
pervade  all  parts  of  the  created  universe,  whether 
material  or  spiritual.  This  is  necessary,  because, 
if  we  act  in  obedience  to  these  laws,  all  the  resist- 
less forces  of  Nature  become  our  auxiliaries  and 
cheer  us  on  to  certain  prosperity  and  triumph ; 
but,  if  we  act  in  contravention  or  defiance  of  these 
laws,  then  Nature  resists,  thwarts,  baffles  us ;  and, 
in  the  end,  it  is  just  as  certain  that  she  will  over- 
whelm us  ^yith  ruin,  as  it  is  that  God  is  strong© 


118 

than  man.  And,  finally,  by  the  term  Education, 
I  mean  such  a  culture  of  our  moral  affections 
and  religious  susceptibilities,  as,  in  the  course  of 
Nature  and  Providence,  shall  lead  to  a  subjection 
or  conformity  of  all  our  appetites,  propensities  and 
sentiments  to  the  will  of  Heaven. 

My  friends,  is  it  not  manifest  to  us  all,  that  no 
individual,  unless  he  has  some  acquaintance  with 
the  lower  forms  of  education,  can  superintend, 
even  the  coarsest  and  most  common  interests  of 
life,  without  daily  error  and  daily  shame  ?  The 
general  utility  of  knowledge,  also,  and  the  higher 
and  more  enduring  satisfactions  of  the  intellect, 
resulting  from  the  discovery  and  contemplation 
of  those  truths  with  which  the  material  and  the 
spiritual  universe  are  alike  filled,  impart  to  this 
subject  a  true  dignity  and  a  sublime  elevation. 
But,  in  its  ofiice  of  attempering  feelings  which 
otherwise  would  blast  or  consume  us; — in  its 
authority  to  say  to  the  clamorous  propensities  of 
our  nature,  "Peace,  be  still!" — in  its  auxiliary 
power  to  fit  us  for  the  endearments  of  domestic, 
for  the  duties  of  social,  and  for  the  sanctity  of 
immortal  life ; — in  its  two-fold  office  of  enhancing 
the  enjoyment  which  each  one  of  us  may  feel  in 
the  virtue  and  happiness  of  all  others,  and  of 
increasing  the  virtue  and  happiness  of  all  others, 
to  make  a  larger  fund  for  common  enjoyment ; — 
in  these  high  and  sacred  prerogatives,  the  cause 
of  education  lays  claim  to  our  mind  and  heart 
and  strength,  as  one  of  the  most  efficient  instru- 
ments prepared  by  the  Creator  for  the  welfare  of 
His  creatures  and  the  honor  of  Himself 

Take  any  individual  you  please,  separate  him 
from  the  crowd  of  men,  and  look  at  him,  apart 
and  alone, — like  some  Robinson  Crusoe  in  a  far-off 
island  of  the  ocean,  without  any  human  being 
around  him,  with  no  prospect  of  leaving  any 
human  being  behind  him, — and,  even  in  such  a 


119 

solitudcj  how  authoritative  ovrer  his  actions,  how 
decisive  of  his  contemplations  and  of  his  con- 
dition, are  the  instructions  he  received  and  the 
habits  he  formed  in  early  life  !  But  now  behold 
him  as  one  of  the  tumultuous  throng  of  men; 
observe  the  wide  influences  which  he  exerts  upon 
others, — in  the  marts  of  business,  in  the  resorts  of 
pleasure,  in  the  high  places  of  official  trust, — and 
reflect  how  many  of  all  these  influences,  whether 
beneficent  or  malign,  depend  upon  the  education 
he  has  received,  and  you  will  have  another  gauge 
or  standard  whereby  to  estimate  the  importance 
of  our  theme.  Look  at  him  again,  not  as  a  being, 
coming,  we  know  not  whence,  alighting  for  a 
brief  residence  upon  this  earth,  and  then  making 
his  exit  through  the  door  of  the  tomb,  to  be  seen 
and  heard  of  no  more,  and  leaving  no  more 
impression  upon  society  of  liis  ways  or  works, 
than  the  sea-bird  leaves  upon  the  surface  of  the 
deep,  when  she  stoops  from  the  upper  air,  dips 
her  breast  for  a  moment  in  the  wave,  and  then 
rises  again  to  a  vifewless  height ;  but  look  at  him 
in  his  relations  to  posterity,  as  the  father  of  a 
family,  as  a  member  of  a  generation  which  sows 
those  seeds  of  virtue  or  vice,  that,  centuries  hence, 
shall  bear  fruit  or  poison ; — look  at  him  as  a  citi- 
zen in  a  free  government,  throwing  his  influence 
and  his  vote  into  one  or  the  other  of  the  scales 
where  peace  and  war,  glory  and  infamy  are 
weighed ; — look  at  him  in  these  relations,  and  con- 
sider how  a  virtuous  or  a  vicious  education  tends 
to  fit  or  to  unfit  him  for  them  all,  and  you  will 
catch  one  more  glimpse  of  the  importance  of  the 
subject  now  presented  to  your  consideration.  But 
if  we  ascend  to  a  still  higher  point  of  vision,  and, — 
forgetting  the  earthly,  personal  career,  and  the  wide 
sphere  of  social  influences,  and  those  acts  of  life 
which  survive  life, — fasten  our  eyes  upon  effects 
which  education  may  throw  forward  into  immor- 


120 

tal  destinies,  it  is  then  that  we  are  awed,  amazed, 
overpowered,  by  the  thought,  that  we  have  leen 
created  and  placed  in  a  system,  where  the  soul's 
eternal  flight  may  be  made  higher  or  lower  by 
those  who  plume  its  tender  wings  and  direct  its 
early  course.  Such  is  the  magnitude,  the  tran- 
scendence of  this  subject.  In  a  philosophical  view, 
beginning  at  what  point  we  will,  and  following 
the  most  rigid  connection  and  dependence  of  cause 
and  effect,  of  antecedent  and  consequence,  we 
shall  find  that  education  is  intimately  related  to 
every  good,  and  to  every  evil,  which,  as  mortal, 
or  as  immortal  beings,  we  can  desire  or  dread. 

Were  a  being  of  an  understanding  mind  and  a 
benevolent  heart,  to  see,  for  the  first  time,  a  peace- 
ful babe  reposing  in  its  cradle,  or  on  its  mother's 
breast,  and  were  he  to  be  told,  that  that  infant 
had  been  so  constituted  that  every  joint  and  organ 
in  its  whole  frame  might  become  the  rendezvous 
of  diseases  and  racking  pains ;  that  such  was  its 
internal  structure,  that  every  nerve  and  fibre 
beneath  its  skin  might  be  matlc  to  throb  with  a 
peculiar  torture ;  that,  in  the  endless  catalogue  of 
human  disasters,  maladies,  adversities  or  shame, 
there  was  scarcely  one  to  which  it  would  not  be 
exposed;  that,  in  the  whole  criminal  law  of  society, 
and  in  the  more  comprehensive  and  self-executing 
law  of  God,  there  was  not  a  crime  which  its  heart 
might  not  at  some  time  will,  and  its  hand  perpe- 
trate; that,  in  the  ghastly  host  of  tragic  passions, — • 
Fear,  Envy,  Jealousy,  Hate,  Remorse,  Despair, — 
there  was  not  one  which  might  not  lacerate  its  soul, 
and  bring  down  upon  it  an  appropriate  catastro- 
phe ; — were  the  benevolent  spectator  whom  I  have 
supposed,  to  see  this  environment  of  ills  under- 
lying, surrounding,  overhanging  their  feeble  and 
unconscious  victim,  and,  as  it  were,  watching  to 
dart  forth  and  seize  it,  might  he  not  be  excused 
for  wishing  the  newly-created  spirit  well  back 
again  into  non-entity  ? 


121 

But  wc  cannot  return  to  non-entity.  We  have 
no  refuge  in  annihilation.  Creative  energy  has 
been  exerted.  Our  first  attribute,  the  vehicle  of 
all  our  other  attributes, — is  immortality.  We  are 
of  indestructible  mould.  Do  what  else  Ave  please 
with  our  nature  and  our  faculties,  we  cannot 
annihilate  them.  Go  where  we  please,  self-deser- 
tion is  impossible.  Banished,  we  may  be,  from 
the  enjoyment  of  God,  but  never  from  his  domin- 
ion. There  is  no  right  or  power  of  expatriation. 
There  is  no  neighboring  universe  to  fly  to.  If 
we  forswear  allegiance,  it  is  but  an  empty  form, 
for  the  laws  by  which  we  are  bound,  do  not  only 
surround  us,  but  are  in  us,  and  parts  of  us.  What- 
soever other  things  may  be  possible,  yet  to  break 
up  or  suspend  this  perpetuity  of  existence;  to 
elude  this  susceptibility  to  pains,  at  once  indeli- 
nite  in  number  and  indescribable  in  severity ;  to 
silence  conscience,  or  say  that  it  shall  not  hold 
dominion  over  the  soul ;  to  sink  the  past  in  obliv- 
ion ;  or  to  alter  any  of  the  conditions  on  which 
Heaven  has  made  our  bliss  and  our  woe  to  depend, 
— these  things  are  impossible.  Personality  has 
been  given  us,  by  which  we  must  refer  all  sensa- 
tions, emotions,  resolves,  to  our  conscious  selves. 
Identity  has  been  given  us,  by  virtue  of  which; 
through  whatever  ages  Ave  exist,  our  whole  being 
is  made  a  unity.  Now,  whether  curses  or  bless- 
ings, by  these  conditions  of  our  nature  we  must 
stand;  for  they  are  appointed  to  us,  by  a  law 
higher  than  Fate, — by  the  law  of  God. 

Were  any  one  of  this  assembly  to  be  ship- 
wrecked upon  a  desert  island, — ''out  of  Human- 
ity's reach," — would  it  not  be  his  first  act  to 
ascend  the  nearest  eminence  and  explore  his  posi- 
tion ?  Would  he  not  at  once  strive  to  descry  the 
dangers  and  the  resources  by  which  he  might  be 
surrounded?  And,  if  reason,  or  even  an  enlight- 
ened self-love,  constitutes  any  attribute  of  our 
11 


122 

nature,  is  it  any  the  less  our  duty, — finding  our- 
selves to  be  J  and  to  have  entered  upon  an  intermi- 
nable career  of  existence, — finding  ourselves  in- 
wrought and  organized  with  certain  faculties  and 
susceptibilities,  so  that  we  are  necessitated  to  en- 
joy pleasure  or  to  suffer  pain,  and  so  that  neu- 
trahty  between  good  and  evil  is  impossible, — is 
it,  I  say,  any  the  less  our  duty  and  our  interest 
to  look  around  us  and  within  us,  and  to  see  what, 
on  the  whole,  we  can  best  do  with  this  nature  and 
with  these  faculties,  of  which  we  find  ourselves 
in  possession?  Ought  we  not  to  inquire  what 
mighty  forces  of  Nature  and  of  Providence  are 
sweeping  us  along,  and  whither  their  currents  are 
tending?  what  parts  of  the  great  system  in  which 
we  are  placed,  can  be  accommodated  to  us,  and 
to  what  parts  we  must  accommodate  ourselves? 

Before  such  a  theme  I  stand  in  awe.  On  which 
side  shall  its  vastness  be  approached?  Shall  I 
speak  of  the  principles  on  which  an  educational 
system  for  a  State  should  be  organized;  or  of  the 
means  and  agencies  by  which  it  should  be  admin- 
istered, in  contrast  with  the  absence  of  any  fun- 
damental plan?  From  the  Capitol,  where  the 
sovereign  law  is  enacted,  and  whence  it  is  promul- 
gated, to  the  school  district  and  the  fireside,  where 
the  grand  results  of  that  law  are  to  appear,  in  a 
more  prosperous,  more  intelligent,  more  virtuous, 
and,  of  course,  more  happy  generation  of  men  and 
women,  there  is  a  vast  intervening  distance ; — 
upon  which  one  of  the  many  links  of  the  chain 
that  binds  these  two  extremes  together,  shall  I 
expatiate  ? 

I  venture,  my  friends,  at  this  time,  to  solicit 
your  attention,  while  I  attempt  to  lay  before  you 
some  of  the  relations  which  we  bear  to  the  cause 
of  Education,  because  we  are  the  citizens  of  a  Re- 
public ;  and  thence  to  deduce  some  of  the  reasons, 
which,  under  our  political  institutions,  make  the 


123 

proper  training  of  the  rising  generation  the  highest 
earthly  duty  of  the  risen. 

It  is  a  truism,  that  free  institutions  multiply 
human  energies.  A  chained  body  cannot  do  much 
harm ;  a  chained  mind  can  do  as  little.  In  a  des- 
potic government,  the  human  faculties  are  be- 
numbed and  paralyzed ;  in  a  Republic,  they  glow 
with  an  intense  life,  and  burst  forth  with  uncon- 
trollable impetuosity.  In  the  former,  they  are  cir- 
cumscribed and  straitened  in  their  range  of  action; 
in  the  latter,  they  have  "ample  room  and  verge 
enough,"  and  may  rise  to  glory  or  plunge  into 
ruin.  Amidst  universal  ignorance,  there  cannot 
be  such  wrong  notions  about  right,  as  there  may 
be  in  a  community  partially  enlightened ;  and 
false  conclusions  which  have  been  reasoned  out, 
are  infinitely  worse  than  blind  impulses. 

To  demonstrate  the  necessity  of  education  in 
our  government,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  derive  my 
proofs  from  the  history  of  other  Republics.  Such 
arguments  are  becoming  stale.  Besides,  there  are 
so  many  points  of  difference  between  our  own  polit- 
ical institutions,  and  those  of  any  other  government 
calling  itself  free,  which  has  ever  existed,  that  the 
objector  perpetually  eludes  or  denies  the  force  of 
our  reasoning,  by  showing  some  want  of  analogy 
between  the  cases  presented. 

I  propose,  therefore,  on  this  occasion,  not  to 
adduce,  as  proofs,  what  has  been  true  only  in  past 
times;  but  what  is  true,  at  the  present  time,  and 
must  always  continue  to  be  true.  I  shall  rely, 
not  on  precedents,  but  on  the  nature  of  things ; 
and  draw  my  arguments  less  from  history  than 
from  humanity. 

Now  it  is  undeniable  that,  with  the  possession  of 
certain  higher  faculties, — common  to  all  mankind, 
— whose  proper  cultivation  will  bear  us  upward 
to  hitherto  undiscovered  regions  of  prosperity 
nnd  glory,  we  possess,  also,  certain  lower  facul- 


124 

ties  or  propensities, — equally  common, — whose 
improper  indulgence  leads,  inevitably,  to  tribula- 
tion, and  anguish,  and  ruin.  The  propensities  to 
which  I  refer,  seem  indispensable  to  our  temporal 
existence,  and,  if  restricted  within  proper  limits, 
they  are  promotive  of  our  enjoyment ;  but,  beyond 
those  limits,  they  work  dishonor  and  infatuation, 
madness  and  despair.  As  servants,  they  are  in- 
dispensable ;  as  masters,  they  torture  as  well  as 
tyrannize.  Now  despotic  and  arbitrary  govern- 
ments have  dwarfed  and  crippled  the  powers  of 
doing  evil  as  much  as  the  powers  of  doing  good  ; 
but  a  republican  government,  from  the  very  fact 
of  its  freedom,  un-reins  their  speed,  and  lets  loose 
their  strength.  It  is  justly  alleged  against  despo- 
tisms, that  they  fetter,  mutilate,  almost  extinguish 
the  noblest  powers  of  the  human  soul ;  but  there 
is  a  'per  contra  to  this,  for  which  we  have  not 
given  them  credit ; — they  circumscribe  the  ability 
to  do  the  greatest  evil,  as  well  as  to  do  the  great- 
est good. 

/  My  proposition,  therefore,  is  simply  this : — If 
republican  institutions  do  wake  up  unexampled 
energies  in  the  whole  mass  of  a  people,  and  give 
them  implements  of  unexampled  power  where- 
with to  work  out  their  will :  then  these  same  in- 
stitutions ought  also  to  confer  upon  that  people 
unexampled  wisdom  and  rectitude.  If  these  insti- 
tutions give  greater  scope  and  impulse  to  the  lower 
order  of  faculties  belonging  to  the  human  mind, 
then,  they  must  also  give  more  authoritative  con- 
trol, and  more  skilful  guidance  to  the  higher  ones. 
If  they  multiply  temptations,  they  must  fortify 
against  them.  If  they  quicken  the  activity  and 
enlarge  the  sphere  of  the  appetites  and  passions, 
they  must,  at  least  in  an  equal  ratio,  establish  the 
authority  and  extend  the  jurisdiction  of  reason 
and  conscience.     In  a  word,  we  must  not  add  to 


126 

the  impulsive,  without  also  adding  to  the  regu- 
lating forces.  / 

If  we  maintain  institutions,  which  bring  us 
within  the  action  of  new  and  unheard-of  powers, 
without  taking  any  corresponding  measures  for 
the  government  of  those  powers,  we  shall  perish 
by  the  very  instruments  prepared  for  our  happi- 
ness. 

The  truth  has  been  so  often  asserted,  that  there 
is  no  security  for  a  republic  but  in  morality  and 
intelligence,  that  a  repetition  of  it  seems  hardly 
in  good  taste.  But  all  permanent  blessings  being 
founded  on  permanent  truths,  a  continued  observ- 
ance of  the  truth  is  the  condition  of  a  continued 
enjoyment  of  the  blessing.  I  know  we  are  often 
admonished  that,  without  intelligence  and  virtue, 
as  a  chart  and  a  compass,  to  direct  us  in  our  un- 
tried political  voyage,  we  shall  perish  in  the  first 
storm;  but  I  venture  to  add  that,  without  these 
qualities,  we  shall  not  wait  for  a  storm, — we  can- 
not weather  a  calm.  If  the  sea  is  as  smooth  as 
glass  we  shall  founder,  for  we  are  in  a  stone-boat. 
Unless  these  qualities  pervade  the  general  head 
and  the  general  heart,  not  only  will  republican 
institutions  vanish  from  amongst  us,  but  the  words 
prosperity  and  happiness  will  become  obsolete. 
And  all  this  may  be  affirmed,  not  from  historical 
examples  merely,  but  from  the  very  constitution 
of  our  nature.  We  are  created  and  brought  into 
life  with  a  set  of  innate,  organic  dispositions  or 
propensities,  which  a  free  government  rouses  and 
invigorates,  and  which,  if  not  bridled  and  tamed, 
by  our  actually  seeing  the  eternal  laws  of  justice, 
as  plainly  as  we  can  see  the  sun  in  the  heavens, 
— and  by  our  actually  feeling  the  sovereign  senti- 
ment of  duty,  as  plainly  as  we  feel  the  earth  be- 
neath our  feet, — will  hurry  us  forward  into  regions 
populous  with  every  form  of  evil. 

Divines,  moralists,  metaphysicians, — almost 
11* 


126 

without  exception, — regard  the  human  being  as 
exceedingly  complex  in  his  mental  or  spiritual 
constitution,  as  well  as  in  his  bodily  organization ; 
— they  regard  him  as  having  a  plurality  of  ten- 
dencies and  affections,  though  brought  together 
and  embodied  in  one  person.  Hence,  in  all  dis- 
cussions or  disquisitions  respecting  human  nature, 
they  analyze  or  assort  it  into  different  classes  of 
powers  and  faculties. 

First,  there  is  a  conscience  in  every  one  of  us, 
and  a  sense  of  responsibleness  to  God,  which 
establish  a  moral  relation  between  us  and  our 
Creator ;  and  which, — though  we  could  call  all 
the  grandeur  and  the  splendors  of  the  universe 
our  own,  and  were  lulled  and  charmed  by  all  its 
music  and  its  beauty, — will  forever  banish  all  true 
repose  from  our  bosom,  unless  our  nature  and  our 
lives  are  supposed  to  be  in  harmony  with  the 
divine  will.  The  object  of  these  faculties  is,  their 
Infinite  Creator ;  and  they  never  can  be  supremely 
happy  unless  they  are  tuned  to  perfect  concord 
with  every  note  in  the  celestial  anthems  of  love 
and  praise. 

Then  there  is  a  set  of  faculties  that  we  denomi- 
nate social  or  sympathetic,  among  the  most  con- 
spicuous of  which  is  benevolence  or  philanthropy, 
— a  sentiment  which  mysteriously  makes  our  pulse 
throb,  and  our  nerves  shrink,  at  the  pains  or  ad- 
versity of  others,  even  though,  at  the  same  time, 
our  own  frame  is  whole,  and  our  own  forhmes 
gladdening.  How  beautiful  and  marvellous  a 
thing  it  is,  when  embosomed  in  a  happy  family, 
surrounded  by  friends  and  children, — which  even 
Paradise  had  not, — that  the  history  of  idolatry  in 
the  far-off  islands  of  the  Pacific,  or  of  the  burning 
of  Hindoo  widows  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe, 
amongst  a  people  whom  we  never  saw  and  never 
shall  see,  should  pierce  our  hearts  like  a  knife  ! 
How  glorious  a  quality  of  our  nature  it  is,  that  the 


127 

story  of  some  old  martyr  or  hero,  who  nobly  up- 
held truth  with  life, — though  his  dust  has  now  been 
blown  about  by^  the  winds  for  twenty  centuries, 
— should  transport  us  with  such  feelings  of  admi- 
ration and  ecstasy,  that  we  long  to  have  been  he, 
and  to  have  borne  all  his  sufferings ;  and  we  find 
ourselves  involuntarily  sublimed  by  so  noble  a 
passion,  that  the  most  terrible  form  of  death,  if 
hallowed  by  a  righteous  cause,  looks  lovely  as  a 
bride  to  the  bridegroom  I 

There  are  also  the  yearning,  doting  fondness  of 
parents  for  children,  of  natural  kindred  for  each 
other,  and  the  passionate,  yet  pure  affection  of 
the  sexes,  which  fit  us  for  the  duties  and  the 
endearments  of  domestic  life.  Even  that  vague 
general  attachment  to  our  fellow-beings,  which 
binds  men  together  in  fraternal  associations,  is 
so  strong,  and  is  universally  recognized  as  so 
natural,  thai  we  look  upon  hermits  and  solitaries 
as  creatures  half-mad  or  half-monstrous.  The 
sphere  of  these  sentiments  or  affections  is  around 
us  and  before  us, — family,  neighborhood,  country, 
kind,  posterity. 

And  lastly,  there  is  the  strictly  selfish  part  of 
our  nature,  which  consists  of  a  gangof  animal  appe- 
tites,— a  horde  of  bandit  propensities, — each  one 
of  which,  by  its  own  nature,  is  deaf  to  the  voice  of 
God,  reckless  of  the  welfare  of  men,  blind,  remorse- 
less, atheistic  ; — each  one  of  the  whole  pack  being 
supremely  bent  upon  its  own  indulgence,  and 
ready  to  barter  earth  and  heaven  to  win  it.  We 
all  have  some  pretty  definite  idea  of  beasts  of 
prey  and  of  birds  of  prey ;  but  not  among  the 
whelps  of  the  lion's  lair, — not  among  the  young 
of  the  vulture's  nest,  are  there  any  spoilers  at  all 
comparable  to  those  that  may  be  trained  from  the 
appetites  and  propensities  which  each  human 
being  brings  with  him  into  the  world.  I  am  sorry 
not  to  be  able  to  speak  of  this  part  of  our  common 


128 

nature  in  a  more  complimentary  manner ;  but 
to  utter  what  facts  will  not  warrant,  would  be 
to  exchange  the  records  of  truth  for  a  song  of 
Delilah. 

The  first  of  these  animal  propensities  is  the 
simple  want  of  food  or  nourishment.  This  appe- 
tite may  be  very  gentlemanly  and  well-behaved. 
There  is  nothing  in  it  necessarily  incompatible 
with  decorum  and  good-breeding,  or  with  the  con- 
scientious fulfihnent  of  every  private  and  every 
public  duty.  When  duly  indulged,  and  duly 
restrained,  it  furnishes  the  occasions, — around 
the  family  and  the  hospitable  board, — for  much 
of  the  pleasure  of  domestic,  and  the  enjoyment 
of  social  existence.  But  thousands  go  through 
life,  without  ever  having  occasion  to  know  or  to 
think  of  its  awful  strength.  Behold,  what  this 
appetite  has  actually  and  not  unfrequently  be- 
come, when,  taking  the  ghastly  form  of  Hunger 
in  a  besieged  city,  or  amongst  a  famishing  people, 
it  forces  the  living  to  feed  upon  flesh  torn  from 
the  limbs  of  the  dead.  Look  at  that  open  boat, 
weltering  in  mid  ocean;  it  holds  the  crew  of  a 
foundered  vessel  who  have  escaped  with  life 
only,  but  days  and  days  have  passed  away,  and 
no  morsel  of  food  or  drop  of  drink  has  assuaged 
the  tortures  of  hunger  and  thirst.  At  first,  they 
wept  together  as  suffering  friends,  then  they  prayed 
together  as  loving  Christians  ;  but  now  friendship 
is  extinct  and  prayer  is  choked,  for  hunger  has 
grown  to  a  cannibal,  uttering  horrible  whispers, 
and  proposing  the  fatal  lot,  by  which  the  blood  of 
one  is  to  fill  a  bowl  to  be  quaffed  by  the  rest! 
Look  again  at  the  ravages  of  this  appetite,  in  its 
other  and  more  familiar,  though  not  less  appalling 
forms; — look  at  its  havoc  of  life  in  China,  where 
thousands  annually  perish  by  opium;  in  Turkey, 
where  the  pipe  kills  more  than  the  bowstring; 
and   at   the  Golgothas  of  Intemperance,  in  Ire- 


129 

land,*  ill  Old  England,  and  in  New  England. 
Now,  the  elements  of  this  appetite  are  common 
to  us  all ;  and  no  untempted  mortal  can  tell  what 
he  would  do,  or  would  not  do,  if  he  were  in  the 
besieged  city,  or  in  the  ocean-tost,  provisionless 
boat.  The  sensations  belonging  to  this  appetite 
reside  in  the  ends  of  a  few  nerves, — called  by  the 
anatomists,  papillce, — which  are  situated  about 
the  tongue  and  throat ;  and  yet,  on  the  wants  of 
this  narrow  spot,  are  founded  the  cultivation  of 
myriads  of  orchards,  vineyards  and  gardens,  the 
tilling  of  grain-fields,  prairie-like  in  extent,  the 
scouring  of  forests  for  game,  the  dredging  of  seas, 
and  the  rearing  of  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills. 
Granaries  are  heaped,  cellars  filled,  vintages  flow, 
to  gratify  this  instinct  for  food.  And  what  toils 
and  perils,  what  European  as  well  as  African 
slavery  among  the  ignorant,  and  what  epicurean 
science  among  the  learned,  have  their  origin  and 
end  in  this  one  appetite !  Once,  cooling  draughts 
from  the  fountain,  and  delicious  fruits  from  the 
earth,  sufliced  for  its  demands.  Now,  whenever 
the  banquet  table  is  spread,  there  must  be  moun- 
tains of  viands  and  freshets  of  wine.  What 
absurdities  as  well  as  wickednesses,  it  tempts  men, 
otherwise  rational  and  religious,  to  commit.  Have 
we  not  all  seen  instances  of  men,  who  will  ask 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  the  bounties  where- 
with a  paternal  Providence  has  spread  their  daily 
board, — who  will  pray  that  their  bodies  may  be 
nourished  and  strengthened  for  usefulness,  by 
partaking  of  its  supplies;  and  will  then  sit  down 
and  almost  kill  themselves  by  indulgence !  It  is 
as  impossible  to  satisfy  the  refinements,  as  to 
satiate  the  grossness  of  this  appetite.  The  Ro- 
man, Apicius,  by  his  gold,  provided  a  dish  for 
his  table  composed  of  thousands  of  nightingales^ 

*  At  the  time  this  was  written,  the  redemption  of  Ireland  by  Father 
Mathew  was  only  beginninjf. 


130 

tongues;  a  despot,  by  his  power,  distils  the  hap- 
piness of  a  thousand  slaves,  to  make  one  delicious 
drop  for  his  palate.  This  appetite,  then,  though 
consisting  of  only  a  few  sensations  about  the 
mouth  and  throat,  is  a  crucible  in  which  the  treas- 
ures of  the  world  may  be  dissolved.  Behold  the 
epicure  and  the  inebriate, — men  who  affect  a  lofty 
indignation  if  you  question  that  they  are  rational 
beings; — see  them  bartering  friends,  family  and 
fame,  body,  soul  and  estate, —  to  gratify  a  space 
not  more  than  two  inches  square  in  the  inside  of 
the  mouth  !  Do  we  not  need  some  new  form  of 
expression,  some  single  word,  where  we  can  con- 
dense, into  one  monosyllable,  the  meaning  of  ten 
thousand  fools ! 

Take  another  of  these  animal  wants, — that  of 
clothing.  How  hisignificant  it  seems,  and  yet  of 
what  excesses  it  is  capable !  What  sacrifices  it 
demands ;  what  follies  and  crimes  it  suborns  us 
to  commit  !  Compare  the  first  fig-leaf  suit  with 
the  monthly  publication  of  London  and  Parisian 
fashions !  Our  first  parents  began  with  a  vege- 
table, pea-green  wardrobe,  plucked  from  the  near- 
est tree,  and  were  their  own  dress-makers.  Now, 
how  many  fields  are  tilled  for  linen  and  cotton  and 
silks;  how  many  races  of  animals  are  domesti- 
cated, or  are  hunted  under  the  line,  around  the 
poles,  in  ocean  or  in  air,  that  their  coverings  may 
supply  the  materials  of  ours  !  How  many  ships 
plough  the  ocean  to  fetch  and  carry ;  what  pon- 
derous machinery  rolls;  how  many  Avarehouses 
burst  with  an  opulence  of  merchandise, — all  hav- 
ing ultimate  reference  to  this  demand  for  covering! 
Nor  is  there  any  assignable  limit  to  the  refinements 
and  the  expenditures,  to  the  frauds  and  the  cruel- 
ties, which  may  grow  on  this  stock.  The  demands 
of  this  propensity,  like  those  of  the  former,  if 
suffered  to  go  onward  unrestrained,  increase  to 
infinity.     The  Austrian,  Prince  Esterhazy,  lately 


131 

visited  the  different  courts  of  Europe,  dressed  in 
a  coat  which  cost  five  hundred  thousand  dollars ; 
and  it  cost  him  from  five  hundred  to  a  thousand 
dollars  every  time  he  put  it  on.  Yet,  undoubt- 
edly, if  he  had  not  thought  himself  sadly  stinted 
in  his  means,  he  would  have  had  a  better  coat, 
and  underclothes  to  match! 

Nor  is  this  all  which  is  founded  upon  the  sen- 
sations of  the  skin,  when  the  thermometer  is  much 
below,  or  much  above  sixty-five  degrees.  Shelter 
must  be  had ;  and  how  much  marble  and  granite 
rises  from  the  quarry;  what  masses  of  clay  are 
shaped  and  hardened  into  bricks;  how  many 
majestic  forests  start  from  their  stations,  and  move 
afield,  to  be  built  up  into  villages  and  cities  and 
temples,  for  the  habitations  of  men!  And,  not- 
withstanding all  that  has  been  done  under  the 
promptings  of  this  appetite,  who,  if  his  wishes 
could  execute  themselves,  would  remain  satisfied 
with  the  house  he  lives  in,  the  temple  he  worships 
in,  or  the  tomb  in  which  he  expects  to  sleep? 

Again  ;  there  are  seasons  of  the  year  when  vege- 
table life  fails,  when  the  corn  and  the  vine  cease 
to  luxuriate  in  the  fields,  and  the  orchards  no 
longer  bend  with  fruitage.  •  There  is  also  the  sea- 
son of  infancy,  when,  though  bountiful  nature 
should  scatter  her  richest  productions  spontane- 
ously around  us,  we  could  not  reach  out  our 
hands  to  gather  them;  and  again,  there  is  the 
season  of  old  age,  with  its  attendant  infirmities, 
when  our  exhausted  frame  can  no  longer  procure 
the  necessaries  of  existence.  Now,  that  in  sum- 
mer we  may  provide  for  winter, — that  during  the 
vigor  of  manhood  we  may  lay  up  provisions  for 
the  imbecility  of  our  old  age,  and  for  the  helpless- 
ness of  children,  we  have  been  endued  by  our 
Maker,  with  an  instinct  of  acquisition,  of  accumu- 
lation ; — or,  with  a  desire,  as  we  familiarly  express 
it,  to  lay  up  something  for  a  rainy  day.   Thus  a  dii- 


132 

position,  or  mental  preadaptation,  was  given  us,  be« 
fore  birth,  for  these  necessities  which  were  to  arise 
after  it,  just  as  our  eye  was  fitted  for  the  hght  to 
shine  through,  before  it  was  born  into  this  heaven- 
full  of  sunshine.  Look  at  this  blind  instinct, — 
the  love  of  gain, — as  it  manifests  itself  even  in 
infancy.  A  child,  at  first,  has  no  idea  that  there 
is  any  other  owner  of  the  universe  but  himself. 
Whatever  pleases  him,  he  forthwith  appropriates. 
His  wants  are  his  title  deeds  and  bills  of  sale. 
He  does  not  ask,  in  whose  garden  the  fruit  grew, 
or  by  whose  diving  the  pearl  was  fished  up. 
Carry  him  through  a  museum  or  a  market,  and 
he  demands,  in  perfectly  intelligible,  though  per- 
haps in  inarticulate  language,  whatever  arrests 
his  fancy.  His  whole  body  of  law,  whether  civil 
or  criminal, — omiie  ejus  corpus  juris, — is  in  three 
words,  ''I  want  it."  If  the  candle  pleases  him, 
he  demands  the  candle ;  if  the  rainbow  and  the 
stars  please  him,  he  demands  the  rainbow  and 
the  stars. 

And  how  does  this  blind  instinct  overleap  the 
objects  for  which  it  was  given.  Not  content  with 
competency  in  means,  and  disdaining  the  gradual 
accumulations  of  honest  industry,  it  rises  to  insa- 
tiate avarice  and  rapacity.  From  the  accursed 
thirst  for  gold  have  come  the  felon  frauds  of  the 
market-place,  and  the  more  wicked  pious  frauds  of 
the  church,  the  robber's  blow,  the  burglar's  stealthy 
step  around  the  midnight  couch,  the  pirate's  mur- 
ders, the  rapine  of  cities,  the  plundering  and 
captivity  of  nations.  Even  now,  in  self-styled 
Christian  communities,  are  there  not  men  who, 
under  the  sharp  goadings  of  this  impulse,  equip 
vessels  to  cross  the  ocean, — not  to  carry  the  glad 
tidings  of  the  gospel  to  heathen  lands,  but  to 
descend  upon  defenceless  villages  in  a  whirlwind 
of  fire  and  ruin,  to  kidnap  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren, and  to  transport  them  through  all  the  horrors 


133 

of  the  middle  passage,  where  their  cries  of  agony 
and  despair  outvoice  the  storm,  that  the  wretched 
victims  may  at  last  be  sold  into  remorseless  bond- 
age, to  wear  chains,  and  to  bequeath  chains; — 
and  all  this  is  perpetrated  and  suffered  because  a 
little  gold  can  be  transmuted,  by  such  fiery  alche- 
my, from  human  tears  and  blood  !  Such  is  the 
inexorable  power  of  cupidity,  in  self-styled  Chris- 
tian lands,  in  sight  of  tiie  spires  of  God's  temples 
pointing  upward  to  heaven,  which,  if  Truth  had 
its  appropriate  emblems,  would  be  reversed  and 
point  downward  to  hell. 

Startle  not,  my  friends,  at  these  far-off  enormi- 
ties. Are  there  not  monsters  amongst  ourselves, 
who  sell  their  own  children  into  bondage  for  the 
money  they  can  earn  7  who  coin  not  only  the 
health  of  their  own  offspring,  but  their  immortal 
capacities  of  intelligence  and  virtue,  into  pelf? 
Are  there  not  others,  who,  at  home,  at  the  town 
meeting,  and  at  the  school  meeting,  win  all  the 
victories  of  ignorance  by  the  cry  of  expense? 
Are  there  not  men  amongst  us,  possessed  of  super- 
fluous wealth,  who  will  vote  against  a  blackboard 
for  a  schoolroom,  because  the  scantling  costs  a 
shilling  and  the  paint  sixpence ! 

Nay,  do  we  not  see  men  of  lofty  intellects,  of 
minds  formed  to  go  leaping  and  bounding  on 
from  star  to  star  in  the  firmament  of  knowledge, 
absorbed,  sunk,  in  the  low  pursuit  of  gain ;  and 
if,  perchance,  some  of  their  superfluous  coffers 
are  lost,  they  go  mad, — the  fools ! — and  whine  and 
mope  in  the  wards  of  a  lunatic  hospital,  because, 
forsooth,  they  must  content  themselves  with  a 
little  less  equipage,  or  upholstery,  or  millinery ! 
Such  follies,  losses,  crimes,  prove  to  what  infinite 
rapacity  the  instinct  of  acquisition  may  grow. 

Again;  there  is  the  natural  sentiment  of  self- 
respect,  or  self-appreciation ; — when  existing  in 
excess,  it  is  popularly  called  self-esteem.  This 
12 


134 

innate  tendency  imparts  to  every  individual  the 
feeling  that,  in  and  of  himself,  he  is  of  some  mark 
and  consequence.  This  instinct  was  given  us 
that  it  might  act  outwards  and  embody  itself  in 
all  dignity  and  nobleness  of  conduct;  that  it 
might  preserve  us,  at  all  times,  from  whatever  is 
Beneath  us  or  unworthy  of  us,  though  we  were 
assured  that  no  other  being  in  the  imiverse  knew 
it,  or  ever  would  know  it.  For,  when  a  man  of 
true  honor, — one  who  has  formed  a  just  estimate 
of  the  noble  capacities  with  which  God  has  en- 
dowed him,  and  of  his  own  duty  in  using  them, 
— when  such  a  man  is  beset  by  a  base  temptation, 
and  the  tempter  whispyers, — "You  may  yield,  for 
in  this  solitude  and  impenetrable  darkness,  none 
can  ever  know  your  momentary  lapse," — liis  in- 
dignant reply  is,  "But  I  shall  know  it  myself!" 
Without  this  elevating  and  sustaining  instinct, 
existing  in  some  degree,  and  acting  Avith  some 
efficiency,  no  man  could  ever  hold  himself  erect, 
in  the  midst  of  so  many  millions  of  other  men, 
each  by  the  law  of  nature  equal  to  himself  With- 
out this,  when  surveying  the  sublimities  of  crea- 
tion,— the  cataract,  the  mountain,  the  ocean,  the 
awful  magnificence  of  the  midnight  heavens;  or 
when  contemplating  the  power  and  perfections 
of  Jehovah, — every  one  would  lay  his  hand  on 
his  mouth  and  his  mouth  in  the  dust,  never  to 
rise  again. 

But  this  common  propensity,  like  the  others,  is 
capable  of  infinite  excesses.  There  are  no  bounds 
to  its  expansiveness  and  exorbitancy.  When  act- 
ing with  intensity,  it  seems  to  possess  creative 
power.  It  changes  emptiness  into  fulness.  It 
not  only  reveals  to  its  possessor  a  self-worthiness 
wholly  invisible  to  others,  but  it  so  overflows  with 
arrogance  and  pride  as  to  confer  an  excellence 
upon  every  thing  connected  with  or  pertaining  to 
itself.     The  tyrant  Gessler  mounted  his  cap  upon 


135 

a  pole,  and  commanded  his  subjects  to  pay  hom- 
age to  it.  It  had  imbibed  a  virtue  from  contact 
with  his  head,  which  made  it  of  greater  value 
than  a  nation  of  freemen.  It  is  said  of  one  of  the 
present  British  dukes,  that  he  will  give  a  thou- 
sand pounds  sterling,  for  a  single  worthless  book, 
or  for  some  ancient  marble  or  pebble,  provided  it 
is  known  to  be  the  only  one  of  the  kind  in  exis- 
tence,— a  unique^ — so  that  his  pride  can  blow  its 
trumpet  in  the  ears  of  all  mankind,  and  say,  "  In 
respect  of  this  old  book,  or  marble,  or  pebble,  1 
have  what  no  other  man  has,  and  am  superior  to 
the  rest  oi  the  world."  Constable  was  so  inflated 
with  the  supposed  honor  of  being  the  publisher 
oi  Sir  Walter  Scott's  novels,  that,  in  one  of  his 
paroxysms  of  pride,  he  exclaimed  with  an  oath, 
''I  am  all  but  the  author  of  the  Waverley  novels! " 
Yes,  he  came  as  near  as  type-setter !  It  is  this 
feeling  which  makes  the  organ-blower  appropri- 
ate the  plaudits  bestowed  upon  the  musician,  and 
the  hero's  valet  mistake  himself  for  his  master. 
It  is  this  propensity  that  makes  a  man  proud  of 
his  ancestors,  who  were  dead  centuries  before  he 
was  born; — proud  of  garments  which  he  never 
had  wit  enough  to  make,  while  he  despises  the 
tailor  by  whose  superior  skill  they  were  prepared ; 
— and  proud  of  owning  a  horse  that  can  trot  a 
mile  in  three  minutes,  though  the  credit  of  his 
speed  belongs  to  the  farmer  who  reared,  and  the 
jockey  who  trained,  and  even  to  the  hostler  who 
grooms  him,  infinitely  more  than  to  the  self-sup- 
posed gentleman  who  sits  behind  him  in  a  gig, 
and  just  lets  him  go  !  Other  selfish  propensities 
play  the  strangest  tricks,  delusions,  impostures, 
upon  us,  and  make  us  knaves  and  fools ;  but  it  is 
the  inflation  of  pride,  more  than  any  thing  else, 
that  swells  us  into  an  Infinite  Sham. 

I  have  time  to  mention  but  one  more  of  this 
lower  order  of  the  human  faculties, — the  Love  of 


13G 

Approbation.  As  a  proper  self-respect  makes  us 
discard  and  disdain  all  unworthy  conduct,  even 
when  alone ;  so  a  rational  desire  to  obtain  the 
good-will  of  others,  stimulates  us  to  generosity, 
and  magnanimity,  and  fortitude,  in  the  perform- 
ance of  our  social  duties.  It  is  a  strong  auxiliary 
motive, — useful  as  an  impulse,  though  fatal  as  a 
guide,  I  think  it  is  hy  the  common  consent  of 
mankind,  that  the  plaudits  of  the  world  rank  as 
the  third,  in  the  list  of  rewards  for  virtuous  con- 
duct,— coming  next  after  the  smiles  of  Heaven 
and  the  approval  of  conscience.  In  this  country, 
the  bestowment  of  offices  is  the  current  coin  in 
which  the  love  of  approbation  pays  and  receives 
its  debts.  Offices,  in  the  United  States,  seem  to 
be  a  legal  tender,  for  nobody  refuses  them.  But 
if  this  desire  becomes  rabid  and  inappeasable, 
if  it  grows  from  a  subordinate  instinct  into  a 
domineering  and  tyrannical  passion,  it  reverses 
the  moral  order,  and  places  the  applauses  of  men 
before  the  rewards  of  conscience  and  the  approval 
of  Heaven.  The  victim  of  this  usurper-passion 
will  find  the  doctrines  of  revealed  truth  in  the 
prevalent  opinions  of  the  community  where  he 
resides  ;  and  the  doctrines  of  political  truth  in  the 
majority  of  votes  at  the  last  election, — modified 
by  the  chances  of  a  change  before  the  next.  Under 
its  influence,  the  intellect  will  plot  any  fraud,  and 
the  tongue  will  utter  any  falsehood,  in  order  to 
cajole  and  inveigle  a  majority  of  the  people ;  but 
should  that  majority  fail,  it  will  compel  its  poor 
slave  to  abandon  the  old  party,  and  try  its  for- 
tunes with  a  new  one. 

There  are  other  original,  innate  propensities, 
which  cannot  properly  be  discussed,  on  an  occa- 
sion like  this.  Their  action,  within  certain  limits, 
is  necessary  to  self-preservation,  and  to  the  pre- 
servation of  the  race ;  a  description  of  their  ex- 
cesses would  make  every  cheek  pale  and  every 
heart  faint. 


137 

Now  there  are  a  few  general  truths  appertain- 
ing to  this  whole  tribe  of  propensities.  Though 
existing  with  different  degrees  of  strength,  in  dif- 
ferent individuals,  yet  they  are  common  to  the 
whole  race.  As  they  are  necessary  to  self-preser- 
vation, their  bestowment  is  almost  universal,  and 
we  regard  every  man  as  so  far  unnatural,  and 
suffering  privation,  who  has  not  the  elements  of 
them  all,  mingled  in  his  composition.  As  they 
are  necessary  to  the  continuance  of  the  race,  we 
must  suppose,  at  least  during  the  present  constitu- 
tion of  human  nature,  that  they  will  always  exist; 
and  that  all  improvements  in  government,  science, 
morals,  faith,  and  other  constituents  of  civiliza- 
tion, will  produce  their  blessed  effects,  not  by  ex- 
tirpating, but  by  controlling  them,  and  by  bring- 
ing them  into  subjection  to  the  social  and  the 
divine  law.  As  we  have  a  moral  nature  to  which 
God  speaks,  commanding  us  to  love  and  obey  his 
holy  will ;  as  we  have  a  social  nature,  which  sends 
a  circulating  current  of  sympathy  from  our  hearts 
around  through  the  hearts  of  children,  friends, 
kindred  and  kind,  mingling  our  pleasures  and 
pains  and  their  pleasures  and  pains  in  one  com- 
mon stream;  so  by  these  propensities,  we  are 
jointed  into  this  earthly  life,  and  this  frame  of 
material  things. 

Again ;  each  one  of  these  propensities  is  related 
to  the  whole  of  its  class  of  objects,  and  not  to  any 
proportionate  or  definite  quantity  of  them ; — just 
as  the  appetite  of  a  wolf  or  a  vulture  is  adapted 
or  related  to  the  blood  of  all  lambs  and  all  kids, 
and  not  merely  to  the  blood  of  some  particular 
number  of  lambs  and  kids.  Each  one  of  them, 
also,  is  blind  to  every  thing  but  its  own  grati- 
fication ;  it  sallies  forth, — if  uncontrolled, — and 
seizes  and  riots  upon  its  objects,  regardless  of 
all  sacrifices,  and  defiant  of  all  consequences. 
Each  one  of  them  is  capacious  as  an  abyss,  is 
12* 


138 

insatiable  by  indulgence,  would  consume  what- 
ever has  been  created  for  all,  and  then  task  Om- 
nipotence to  invent  new  pleasures  for  its  pam- 
pering. Was  any  royal  epicure  ever  satisfied, 
while  a  luxury  was  known  to  exist  which  he  had 
not  tasted?  To  rear  an  architectural  pile,  or  a 
mausoleum,  vast  as  the  unrestrained  desires  of 
man,  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  would  be  too  few; 
nor  could  the  materials  of  his  wardrobe  be  sup- 

Elied,  though  Damascus  were  his  merchant.  There 
ave  been  thousands  of  men,  all  whose  coffers 
were  literally  filled  with  gold ;  but  where  the  ava- 
ricious man  in  whose  heart  there  was  not  room 
for  more  coffers  ?  The  experiment  was  tried  with 
Alexander  of  Macedon,  whether  the  love  of  power 
could  be  satisfied  by  the  conquest  of  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth.  He  did  not  weep,  at  first,  for 
the  conquest  of  the  world ;  it  was  only  after  con- 
quering one  world  that  he  wept  for  the  conquest 
of  more.  The  ambition  of  Napoleon  never  burned 
with  a  fiercer  flame  than  when  he  escaped  from 
his  island-prison  to  remount  the  throne  of  France; 
although  it  is  said  that  the  wars  in  which  he  had 
then  been  engaged  had  cost  Europe  five  millions 
of  human  lives.  But  to  slake  his  thirst  for  power 
and  fame,  the  blood  of  five  millions  or  of  five  hun- 
dred millions,  the  destruction  of  a  continent  or  a 
constellation,  of  zone  or  zodiac,  would  have  been 
nothing. 

And  thus  it  is  with  all  the  propensities.  Their 
object  must  be  obtained,  whether,  like  Richard, 
they  murder  two  male  children,  or,  like  Herod, 
all  under  two  years  of  age.  Pride  built  the  pyra- 
mids and  the  Mexican  mounds.  Appetite  led 
down  the  Goths  and  Yandals  into  the  delicious 
south.  Cupidity  brought  forth  the  slave  trade. 
And  so  of  other  enormities, — the  Bastile,  the  In- 
|uisition,  the  Harem, — they  grew  on  the  same 
stock.     And  though  our  bodies  seem  so  small,  and 


139 

occupy  so  little  space,  yet,  through  these  propen- 
sities, they  are  capable  of  sending  out  earth-o'er- 
spreading  branches,  all  clustering  with  abomina- 
tions. 

Our  propensities  have  no  affinity  with  reason 
or  conscience.  Did  you  ever  hear  two  persons 
conversing  about  a  third,  whose  ruin  and  infamy 
they  agreed  had  come  from  the  amount  of  his  for- 
tune, or  from  his  facilities  for  indulgence,  when, 
in  the  very  breath  in  which  they  spoke  of  the 
resistless  power  of  the  temptation  over  him,  they 
did  not  add  that,  in  their  own  persons,  they  should 
be  willing  to  run  the  same  risk  7  This  is  the  lan- 
guage of  all  the  propensities.  They  are  willing 
to  run  any  risk,  whether  it  be  of  health  or  of 
character,  of  time  or  of  eternity.  This  explains 
how  it  is,  that  some  men  not  wholly  lost  to  vir- 
tue,— men  who  acknowledge  their  responsibleness 
to  God,  and  their  obhgations  to  conscience, — but 
in  whom  the  propensities  predominate  and  tyran- 
nize ; — I  say  this  explains  how  it  is  that  such 
men,  when  stung  and  maddened  by  the  goadings 
of  desire,  wish  themselves  bereft  of  their  better 
attributes,  that  they  might  give  full  career  to  pas- 
sion, without  remorse  of  conscience  or  dread  of 
retribution.  That  human  depravity,  which,  hith- 
erto, has  made  the  history  of  our  race,  like  the 
roll  of  the  prophet,  a  record  of  lamentation  and 
mourning  and  woe,  has  worked  out  through  these 
propensities ;  and,  if  the  very  substance  and  or- 
ganization of  human  nature  be  not  changed,  by 
the  eradication  of  these  instincts,  that  depravity 
which  is,  to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  make  the 
future  resemble  the  past,  will  pour  out  its  agonies 
and  its  atrocities  through  the  same  channels  ! 

Such,  then,  are  our  latent  capabilities  of  evil, 
— all  ready  to  be  evolved,  should  the  restraints  of 
reason,  conscience,  religion,  be  removed.  Here 
are  millions  of  men,  each  with  appetites  capacious 


140 

of  infinity,  and  raging  to  be  satisfied  out  of  a 
supply  of  means  too  scanty  for  any  one  of  them. 
Millions  of  coveting  eyes  are  fastened  on  the  same 
object, — millions  of  hands  thrust  out  to  seize  it. 
What  ravening,  torturing,  destroying,  then,  must 
ensue,  if  these  hounds  cannot  be  lashed  back  into 
their  kennel.  They  must  be  governed;  they  can- 
not be  destroyed.  Nature  declares  that  the  germs, 
the  embryos,  of  these  incipient  monsters,  shall  not 
be  annihilated.  She  reproduces  them  with  every 
human  being  that  comes  into  the  world.  Nor, 
indeed,  is  it  desirable,  even  if  it  were  practicable, 
that  they  should  be  wholly  expunged  and  razed 
out  of  our  constitution.  He  who  made  us,  knew 
our  circumstances  and  necessities,  and  He  has 
implanted  them  in  our  nature  too  deep  for  eradi- 
cation. Besides,  within  their  proper  sphere,  they 
confer  an  innocent,  though  a  subordinate  enjoy- 
ment. Certainly,  we  would  not  make  all  men 
hermits  and  anchorites.  Let  us  be  just,  even  to 
the  appetites.  No  man  is  the  worse  because  he 
keenly  relishes  and  enjoys  the  bountiful  provisions 
which  Heaven  has  made  for  his  food,  his  raiment, 
and  his  shelter.  Indeed,  why  were  these  provi- 
sions ever  made,  if  they  are  not  to  be  enjoyed? 
Surely  they  are  not  superfluities  and  supernumer- 
aries, cumbering  a  creation  which  would  have  been 
more  perfect  without  them.  Let  them  then  be 
acquired  and  enjoyed,  though  always  with  mod- 
eration and  temperance.  Let  the  lover  of  wealth 
seek  wealth  by  all  honest  means,  and  with  earnest- 
ness, if  he  will ; — let  him  surround  himself  with 
the  comforts  and  the  embellishments  of  life,  and 
add  the  pleasures  of  beauty  to  the  pleasures  of 
utility.  Let  every  honorable  man  indulge  a  quick 
and  sustaining  confidence  in  his  own  worthiness, 
whenever  disparaged  or  maligned ;  and  let  him 
count  upon  the  aflections  of  his  friends,  and  the 
benedictions  of  his  race,  as  a  part  of  the  solid 


141 

rewards  of  virtue.  These,  and  kindred  feelings, 
are  not  to  be  crushed,  extinguished.  Let  them 
rouse  themselves  in  presence  of  their  objects,  and 
rush  out  to  seize  them,  and  neigh,  like  a  war- 
horse  for  the  battle, — only  let  them  know  that 
they  have  a  rider,  to  whose  eye  no  mist  can  dim 
the  severe  line  they  are  never  to  pass,  and  whose 
arm  can  bend  every  neck  of  them,  like  the  twig 
of  an  osier. 

But  I  must  pass  to  the  next  topic  for  consider- 
ation,— the  stimulus  which,  in  this  country,  is 
appHed  to  the  propensities;  and  the  free,  unbar- 
red, unbounded  career,  which  is  here  opened  for 
their  activity.  In  every  other  nation  that  has 
ever  existed, — not  even  excepting  Greece  and 
Rome, — the  mind  of  the  masses  has  been  ob- 
structed in  its  development.  Amongst  millions 
of  men,  only  some  half  dozen  of  individuals, — 
often  only  a  single  individual, — have  been  able 
to  pour  out  the  lava  of  their  passions,  with  full, 
volcanic  force.  These  few  men  have  made  the 
Pharaohs,  the  Neros,  the  Napoleons  of  the  race. 
The  rest  have  usually  been  subjected  to  a  syste- 
matic course  of  blinding,  deafening,  crippling. 
As  an  inevitable  consequence  of  this,  the  minds 
of  men  have  never  yet  put  forth  one  thousandth 
part  of  their  tremendous  energies.  Bad  men 
have  swarmed  upon  the  earth,  it  is  true,  but  they 
have  been  weak  men.  Another  consequence  is, 
that  we,  by  deriving  our  impressions  from  history, 
have  formed  too  low  an  estimate  of  the  marvel- 
lous powers  and  capacities  of  the  human  being 
for  evil  as  well  as  for  good.  The  general  esti- 
mate is  altogether  inadequate  to  what  the  com- 
mon mind  will  be  able  to  effect,  when  apt  instru- 
ments are  put  into  its  hands,  and  the  wide  world 
is  opened  for  its  sphere  of  operations.  Amongst 
savage  nations,  it  is  true,  the  will  has  been  moro 


M2 

free ;  but  there  it  has  had  none  of  the  instruments 
of  civilized  life,  wherewith  to  execute  its  purposes 
— suchj  for  instance,  as  the  mechanic  arts ;  a 
highly  cultivated  language,  with  the  general  abil- 
ity to  read  and  write  it;  fire-arms;  engineering; 
steam ;  the  press,  and  the  post-ofiice ; — and  am6ng 
civilized  nations,  though  the  means  have  been 
far  more  ample,  yet  the  will  has  been  broken  or 
corrupted.  Even  the  last  generation  in  this 
country, — the  generation  that  moulded  our  insti- 
tutions into  their  present  form, — were  born  and 
educated  under  other  institutions,  and  they 
brought  into  active  life  strong  hereditary  and  tra- 
ditional feelings  of  respect  for  established  author- 
ity, merely  because  it  was  established, — of  vener- 
ation for  law,  simply  because  it  was  law, — and 
of  deference  both  to  secular  and  ecclesiastical 
rank,  because  they  had  been  accustomed  to  revere 
rank.  But  scarcely  any  vestige  of  this  reverence 
for  the  past,  now  remains.  The  momentum  of 
hereditary  opinion  is  spent.  The  generatiori  of 
men  now  entering  upon  the  stage  of  life, — the 
generation  which  is  to  occupy  that  stage  for  the 
next  forty  years, — will  act  out  their  desires  more 
fully,  more  effectively,  than  any  generation  of 
men  that  has  ever  existed.  Already,  the  tramp 
of  this  innumerable  host  is  sounding  in  our  ears. 
They  are  the  men  who  will  take  counsel  of  their 
desires,  and  make  it  law.  The  condition  of  soci- 
ety is  to  be  only  an  embodiment  of  their  mighty 
will ;  and  if  greater  care  be  not  taken  than  has 
ever  heretofore  been  taken,  to  inform  and  regulate 
that  will,  it  will  inscribe  its  laws,  all  over  the 
face  of  society,  in  such  broad  and  terrific  charac- 
ters, that,  not  only  whoever  runs  may  read,  but 
whoever  reads  will  run.  Should  avarice  and 
pride  obtain  the  mastery,  then  will  the  humble 
and  the  poor  be  ground  to  dust  beneath  their 
chariot  wheels ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  should 


113 

besotting  vices  and  false  knowledge  bear  sway, 
then  will  every  wealthy,  and  every  educated,  and 
every  refined  individual  and  family,  stand  in  the 
same  relation  to  society,  in  which  game  stands  to 
the  sportsman ! 

In  taking  a  survey  of  the  race,  we  see  that  all 
of  human  character  and  conduct  may  be  referred 
to  two  forces  ;»«the  innate  force  of  the  mind  acting 
outwards,  and  the  force  of  outward  things  acting 
upon  the  mind.  First,  there  is  an  internal,  sali- 
ent, elancing  vigor  of  the  mind,  which,  according 
to  its  state  and  condition,  originates  thoughts, 
desires,  impulses,  and  projects  them  outwards 
into  words  and  deeds ;  and  secondly,  there  is  the 
external  force  of  circumstances,  laws,  traditions, 
customs,  which  besieges  the  mind,  environs  it, 
places  a  guard  at  all  its  outer  gates,  permits  some 
of  its  desires  and  thoughts  to  issue  forth,  and  to 
become  words  and  actions,  but  forbids  others  to 
escape,  beats  them  back,  seals  the  lips  that  would 
utter  them,  smites  off  the  arm  that  would  perform 
them,  punishes  the  soul  that  would  send  them 
forth  by  finding  an  avenue  in  every  sense  and  in 
every  nerve,  through  which  to  send  up  tormentors 
to  destroy  its  hopes  and  lay  waste  its  sanctuaries ; 
and  finally,  if  all  these  means  fail  to  subdue  and 
silence  the  internal  energy,  then  the  external 
power  dismisses  the  soul  itself  from  the  earth,  by 
crushing  the  physical  organization  which  it  in- 
habits. These  two  forces, — on  the  one  hand, 
the  mind  trajecting  itself  forth,  and  seeking  to  do 
its  will  on  whatever  is  external  to  itself, — and,  on 
the  other  hand,  whatever  is  external  to  the  mind, 
modifying  or  resisting  its  movements, — these  con- 
stitute the  main  action  of  the  human  drama.  As 
a  mathematician  would  express  it,  human  con- 
duct and  character  move  in  the  diagonal  of  these 
two  forces.  Sometimes,  indeed,  both  forces  are 
coincident,  sometimes  antagonistic ;  but  it  is  use- 


114 

less  to  inquire  which  force  has  predominated,  as 
no  universal  rule  can  be  laid  down  respecting 
them.  In  despotisms,  the  external  prevails ;  in 
revolutions, — such  as  the  French,  for  instance, — 
the  internal.  Why  are  the  Chinese,  for  a  hun- 
dred successive  generations,  transcripts  and  fac- 
similes of  each  other,  as  though  the  dead  grand- 
parent had  come  back  again  in  the  grandchild, 
and  so  round  and  round?  It  is  because,  among 
the  Chinese,  this  external  force  overlays  the  grow- 
ing faculties  of  the  soul,  and  compels  them,  as 
they  grow,  to  assume  a  prescribed  shape.  In 
that  country  the  laws  and  customs  are  so  inflexi- 
ble, and  the  spirit  of  the  people  is  so  impotent, 
that  their  minds  grow,  as  it  were,  into  the  hollow 
of  a  brazen  envelope,  whose  walls  are  not  remov- 
able nor  penetrable  ;  and  hence,  all  growth  must 
conform  to  the  shape  and  size  of  the  concave  sur- 
face. By  their  education,  laws,  and  penalties, 
the  minds  of  the  people  are  made  to  grow  into 
certain  social,  political,  and  religious  forms,  just 
as  certainly,  and  on  the  same  principle  of -force, 
as  the  feet  of  their  beauties  are  made,  by  small, 
inelastic  shoes,  to  grow  hoof-wise.  In  Russian 
Poland,  a  subject  is  as  much  debarred  from 
touching  certain  topics,  in  the  way  of  discussion, 
as  from  seizing  on  the  jewels  of  the  crown.  The 
knout  and  the  Siberian  mines  await  the  first  out- 
ward expression  of  the  transgressor.  Hence  the 
divinely-formed  soul,  created  to  admire,  through 
intelligence,  this  glorious  universe ;  to  go  forth, 
through  knowledge,  into  all  lands  and  times ;  to 
be  identified,  through  sympathy,  with  all  human 
fortunes ;  to  know  its  Maker,  and  its  immortal 
destiny,  is  driven  back  at  every  door  of  egress,  is 
darkened  at  every  window  where  light  could  en- 
ter, and  is  chained  to  the  vassal  spot  which  gave 
it  birth, — where  the  very  earth,  as  well  as  its 
inhabitant,  is  blasted  by  the  common  curse  of 


145« 

oondage.  In  Oriental  and  African  despotisms, 
the  mind  of  the  millions  grows,  only  as  the  trees 
of  a  noble  forest  could  grow  in  the  rocky  depths 
of  a  cavern,  without  strength,  or  beauty,  or  heal- 
ing balm,— in  impurity  and  darkness,  fed  by 
poisonous  exhalations  from  stagnant  pools,  all 
upward  and  outward  expansion  introverted  by 
solid  barriers,  and  forced  back  into  unsightly 
forms.  Thus  has  it  always  fared  with  the  facul- 
ties of  the  human  soul  when  caverned  in  despo- 
tism. They  have  dweli  in  intellectual,  denser 
than  subterranean,  darkness.  Their  most  tender, 
sweet,  and  hallowed  emotions  have  been  choked 
and  blighted.  'Hie  pure  and  sacred  effusions  of  the 
heart  have  been  converted  into  liatred  of  the  good 
and  idolatiy  of  the  base,  for  want  of  the  light  and 
the  air  of  true  freedom  and  instruction.  The 
world  can  suffer  no  loss,  equal  to  that  spiritual 
loss  wliich  is  occasioned  by  attempting  to  destroy, 
instead  of  regulating  the  energies  of  the  mind* 

Since  the  Christian  epoch,  great  has  been  the 
change  in  Christian  countries  Between  the  relative 
strength  of  the  mind,  acting  outwards,  and  the 
strength  of  outward  things,  repulsing  and  stifling 
the  action  of  the  mind.  Christianity  established 
one  conviction  in  the  minds  of  thousands  and 
tens  of  thousands,  which  other  religions  had 
established  in  the  mind  of  here  and  there  an 
individual  only.  This  conviction  was,  that  the 
future  existence  is  infinitely  more  important  than 
the  present  ; — the  difference  between  the  two 
being  so  great  as  to  reduce  all  mere  worldly  dis- 
thictions  to  insignificance  and  nothing.  Hence  it 
might  have  been  predicted  from  the  beginning, 
that  the  human  mind,  acting  under  the  mighty 
stimulus  of  Christianity,  would  eventually  tri- 
umph over  despotism.  The  interests  of  despotism 
lie  in  this  life ;  those  of  Christianity,  not  only  in 
this,  but  in  the  life  to  come.  It  was,  therefore 
13 


1 16 

mortality  at  one  end  of  the  lever,  and  immortality 
at  the  other.  When  one  party  contends  for  the 
blessings  of  life  merely,  while  the  other  contends 
for  blessings  higher  than  life,  the  latter,  by  a  law 
of  the  moral  nature,  must  ultimately  prevail. 

Although  many  of  the  ancients  had  a  belief  in 
a  future  state  of  existence,  yet  it  was  apprehended 
by  them  so  dimly,  and  its  retributions  were  press- 
ed home  so  feebly  on  their  consciences,  that  the 
belief  appears  to  have  had  but  little  effect  upon 
the  conduct  of  individuals,  or  the  administration 
and  policy  of  states  ;  and,  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses, it  would  hardly  be  too  strong  an  expression 
to  say,  that  immortality  was  JiJ^st  revealed  by 
Christ.  During  the  first  three  centuries  of  our 
era,  the  knowledge  of  this  discovery, — so  to  call 
it, — was  widely  diffused  among  men.  Then,  by 
the  union  of  Church  and  State,  under  Constan- 
tino, the  civil  power  came  in,  and  attempted  to 
appropriate  the  benefits  of  the  new  discovery  to 
itself,  so  that  it  might  use  divine  motives  for  self- 
ish purposes.  And^  had  the  throne  and  the  priest- 
hood sought  to  govern  men  by  the  motive  of  fear 
alone,  they  might  have  retained  their  ascendency, 
— we  cannot  tell  for  what  period  of  time.  But 
they  found  a  natural  conscience  in  men,  a  sense 
of  responsibleness  to  duty,  which  they  were  so 
short-sighted  as  to  enlist  in  their  service ; — I  say, 
short-sighted,  for,  when  they  aroused  the  senti- 
ment of  duty  in  the  human  soul,  and  used  it  as  a 
means  of  securing  obedience  to  themselves,  they 
called  up  a  power  stronger  than  themselves.  The 
ally  was  mightier  than  the  chief  that  invoked  its 
aid.  Hence  the  uprisings,  the  rebellions  of  the 
people  against  regal  and  ecclesiastical  oppression. 
Rulers  attempted  to  subdue  the  people  ty  perse- 
cutions, massacres,  burnings,  but  in  vain  ;  be- 
causej  though  they  could  kill  men,  they  could  not 
kill  conscience.     After  a  conflict  of  sixteen  cen- 


11" 

turies,  tbe  victory  has  been  achieved.  Mind  has 
triumphed  over  the  quellers  of  mind, — the  inter- 
nal force  over  the  external.  When  mankind  shall 
be  removed  by  time  to  such  a  distance  that  they 
can  see  past  events  in  their  true  proportions  and 
relative  magnitude,  this  struggle,  between  oppres- 
sion on  the  one  side,  striving  to  keep  the  human 
mind  in  its  prison-house,  and  to  set  an  eternal 
seal  upon  the  door ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
convulsive  efforts  of  that  mind  to  disinthrall  itself, 
and  to  utter  its  impatient  thoughts;  and  to  form, 
and  to  abide  by,  its  own  convictions  of  truth, — 
this  conflict,  I  say,  will  be  the  grand,  central,  con- 
spicuous object,  in  the  history  of  our  era.  The 
history  of  wars  between  rival  dynasties,  for  the 
conquest  or  dismemberment  of  empires,  will  fade 
away,  and  be  but  dimly  visible  in  the  retrospect ; 
while  this  struggle  between  the  soul  and  its  en- 
slavers, will  stand  far  out  in  the  foreground, — the 
towering,  supereminent  figure,  on  the  historic 
canvass. 

It  has  not  been  in  accustomed  modes,  nor  with 
weapons  of  earthly  temper  only,  that  this  warfare 
has  been  waged.  A^  the  energies  of  the  soul, 
acting  under  the  mighty  impulses  of  a  sense  of 
duty  and  the  prospect  of  an  endless  futurity, 
waxed  stronger  and  stronger,  tyrants  forged  new 
engines  to  subdue  it.  Their  instruments  have 
been  the  dungeons  of  a  thousand  Bastiles;  the 
Inquisition,  whose  ministers  were  literally  flames 
of  fire ;  devastations  of  whole  provinces ;  hunt- 
ings of  entire  communities  of  men  into  the  moun- 
tains, like  timorous  flocks;  massacres, — in  one 
only  of  which,  thirty  thousand  men  and  women 
were  slaughtered  at  the  ringing  of  a  signal-bell: 
and,  after  exhausting  all  the  agonies  of  earth  and 
time,  they  unvaulted  the  Bottomless  Pit,  and, 
suspending  their  victims  over  the  abyss,  they 
threatened  to  hurl  them  down  into  the  arms  of 


148 

beckoning  demons,  impatient  to  begin  theif 
pastime  of  eternal  torture.  But,  impassive  to 
annihilation ;  though  smitten  down,  yet,  with  re- 
cuperative energy,  springing  from  its  fall ;  victo- 
rious over  the  sufferings  of  this  world  and  the 
more  formidable  terrors  of  another, — the  human 
soul,  immortal,  invulnerable,  invincible,  has  at 
last  unmanacled  and  emancipated  itself.  It  has 
triumphed ;  and  here,  in  our  age  and  in  our  land, 
it  is  now  rising  up  before  us,  gigantic,  majestical, 
lofty  as  an  archangel,  and,  like  an  archangel,  to 
be  saved  or  lost  by  its  obedience  or  its  transgres- 
sions. Amongst  ourselves  it  is,  that  this  spirit  is 
now  walking  forth,  full  of  its  new-found  life,  wan- 
toning in  freshly-discovered  energies,  surrounded 
by  all  the  objects  which  can  inflame  its  boundless 
appetites,  and,  as  yet,  too  purblind,  from  the  long 
darkness  of  its  prison-house,  to  discern  clearly 
between  its  blessing  and  its  bane.  That  uncon- 
querable force  of  the  human  soul,  which  all  the 
arts  and  power  of  despotism, — which  all  the  en- 
ginery borrowed  from  both  worlds, — could  not 
subdue,  is  here,  amongst  oiirselves,  to  do  its 
sovereign  will. 

Let  us  now  turn  for  a  moment  to  see  what 
means  and  stimulants  our  institutions  have 
provided  for  the  use  of  the  mighty  powers  and 
passions  they  have  unloosed.  — N#  apparatus  s« 
skilful  was  ever  before  devised.  —Instead  tf  the 
slow  and  cumbrous  machinery  •(  firmer  times, 
we  have  provided  that  which  is  quick-working 
and  far-reaching,  and  which  may  be  used  for  the 
destruction  as  easily  as  for  the  welfare  of  its  pos- 
sessors. Our  institutions  furnish  as  great  facilities 
for  wicked  men,  in  all  departments  of  wickedness, 
as  phosphorus  and  lucifer  matches  furnish  to  the 
incendiary.  What  chemistry  has  done,  in  these 
preparations,  over  the  old  art  of  rubbing  two  sticks 


149 

together,  for  the  wretch  who  would  fire  your 
dwelling,  our  social  partnerships  have  done  for 
flagitious  and  unprincipled  men.  ^Through  the 
right, — almost  universal, — of  suffrage,  we  have 
established  a  community  of  power ;  and  no  propo- 
sition is  more  plain  and  self-evident,  than  that 
nothing  but  mere  popular  inclination  lies  between 
a  community  of  power  and  a  community  in  every 
thing  else.  And  though,  in  the  long-run,  and 
when  other  things  are  equal,  a  righteous  cause 
always  has  a  decisive  advantage  over  an  evil  one, 
yet,  in  the  first  onset  betweei%  right  and  wrong, 
bad  men  possess  one  advantage  over  the  good. 
They  have  doubje  resources, — two  armories.  The 
arts  of  guilt  are  as  welcome  to  them  as  the  prac- 
tices of  justice.  They  can  use  poisoned  wea- 
pons as  well  as  those  approved  by  the  usages  of 
war. 

Again  ;  has  it  been  sufficiently  considered, 
that  all  which  has  been  said, — and  truly  said, — 
of  the  excellence  of  our  institutions,  if  adminis- 
tered by  an  upright  people,  must  be  reversed  and 
read  backwards,  if  administered  by  a  corrupt  one? 
I  am  aware  that  some  will  be  ready  to  say,  ''  we 
have  been  unwise  and  infatuated  to  confide  all 
the  constituents  of  our  social  and  political  wel- 
fare, to  such  irresponsible  keeping."  But  let  me 
ask  of  such, — of  what  avail  is  their  lamentation? 
The  irresistible  movement  in  the  diffusion  of 
power  is  still  progressive,  not  retrograde.  Every 
year  puts  more  of  social  strength  into  the  hands 
of  physical  strength.  The  arithmetic  of  numbers 
is  more  and  more  excluding  all  estimate  of  moral 
forces,  in  the  administration  of  government.  And 
this,  whether  for  good  or  for  evil,  will  continue  to 
be.  Human  beings  cannot  be  remanded  to  the 
dungeons  of  imbecility,  if  they  are  to  those  of 
ignorance.  The  sun  can  as  easily  be  turned  back- 
wards in  its  course,  as  one  particle  of  that  power, 
13* 


150 

which  has  been  conferred  upon  the  millions,  can 
l?e  again  monopolized  by  the  few.  To  discuss  the 
question,  therefore,  whether  our  institutions  are 
not  too  free,  is,  for  all  practical  purposes,  as  vain 
as  it  would  be  to  discuss  the  question  whether, 
on  the  whole,  it  was  a  wise  arrangement  on  the 
part  of  Divine  Providence,  that  the  American  con- 
tinent should  ever  have  been  created,  or  that 
Columbus  should  have  discovered  it.  And  let 
me  ask,  further,  have  those  who  believe  our  insti- 
tutions to  be  too  free,  and  who,  therefore,  would  go 
back  to  less  liberal  ones, — have  they  settled  the 
question,  how  far  back  they  will  go  7  Will  they 
go  back  to  the  dark  ages,  and  recall  an  eclipse 
which  lasted  centuries  long?  or  will  they  ascend 
a  little  higher  for  their  models, — to  a  time  when 
our  ancestors  wore  undressed  skins,  and  burrowed 
in  holes  of  the  earth  ?  or  will  they  strike  at  once 
for  the  institutions  of  Egypt,  where,  though  the 
monkey  was  a  god,  there  was  still  a  sufficient 
distance  between  him  and  his  human  worshipper  1 
But  all  such  discussions  are  vain.  The  oak  will 
as  soon  go  back  into  the  acorn,  or  the  bird  into  its 
shell,  as  we  return  to  the  monarchical  or  aristo- 
cratic forms  of  by-gone  ages. 

Nor  let  it  be  forgotten,  in  contemplating  our 
condition,  that  the  human  passions,  as  unfolded 
and  invigorated  by  our  institutions,  are  not  only 
possessed  of  all  the  prerogatives,  and  equipped 
with  all  the  implements  of  sovereignty ;  but  that 
they  are  forever  roused  and  spurred  to  the  most 
vehement  efforts.  It  is  a  law  of  the  passions,  that 
they  exert  strength  in  proportion  to  the  causes 
which  excite  them,— a  law  which  holds  true  in 
cases  of  sanity,  as  well  as  in  the  terrible  strength 
of  insanity.  And  with  what  endless  excitements 
are  the  passions  of  men  here  plied  !  With  us, 
the  Press  is  such  a  clarion,  that  it  proclaims  all 
the  great  movements  of  this  great  country,  with 


ISl 

a  voice  that  sweeps  over  its  whole  surface,  and 
comes  back  to  us  in  echoes  from  its  extremest 
borders.  From  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  from 
the  Lakes  to  the  Gulf,  men  cheer,  inflame,  exas- 
perate each  other,  as  though  they  were  neighbors 
in  the  same  street.  What  the  ear  of  Dionysius 
was  to  him,  making  report  of  every  word  uttered 
by  friend  or  foe,  our  institutions  have  made  this 
land  to  every  citizen.  It  is  a  vast  sounding  gal- 
lery ;  and,  from  horizon  to  horizon  every  shout  of 
triumph  and  every  cry  of  alarm  are  gathered  up 
and  rung  in  every  man's  dwelling.  All  objects 
which  stimulate  the  passions  of  men,  are  made  to 
pass  before  the  eyes  of  all,  as  in  a  circling  pano- 
rama. In  very  truth  we  are  all  hung  upon  the 
same  electrical  wire,  and  if  the  ignorant  and  vicious 
get  possession  of  the  apparatus,  the  intelligent 
and  the  virtuous  must  take  such  shocks  as  the 
stupid  or  profligate  experimenters  may  choose  to 
administer. 

Mark  how  the  excitements  which  our  institu- 
tions supply,  have  wrought  upon  the  love  of  gain 
and  the  love  of  place.  Vast  speculations, — such 
as  in  other  countries  would  require  not  only  royal 
sanctions  and  charters,  but  the  equipment  of  fleets, 
and  princely  outfits  of  gold  and  arms, — are  here 
rushed  into,  on  flash  paper,  by  clerks  and  appren- 
tices, not  out  of  their  time.  What  party  can 
afiirm  that  it  is  exempt  from  members  who  prize 
oflice,  rather  than  the  excellence  that  deserves  it? 
Where  can  I  be, — not  what  can  I  be, — is  the  ques- 
tion suggested  to  aspirants  for  fame.  How  many 
have  their  eyes  fixed  upon  posts  of  honor  and 
emolument  which  but  one  only  can  fill.  While 
few  will  be  satisfied  with  occupying  less  than 
their  portion  of  space  in  the  public  eye,  thousands 
have  marked  out  some  great  compartment  of  the 
sky  for  the  blazonry  of  their  names.  And  hence 
it  is,  that,  wherever  there  is  a  signal  of  gain,  or 


152 

of  power,  the  vultures  of  cupidity  and  of  ambition 
darken  the  air.  Young  men  launch  into  this  tu- 
multuous life,  years  earlier  than  has  ever  been  wit- 
nessed elsewhere.  They  seek  to  win  those  prizes 
without  delay,  which,  according  to  nature's  ordi- 
nances and  appointments,  are  the  rewards  of  a  life 
of  labor.  Hence  they  find  no  time  for  studying 
the  eternal  principles  of  justice,  veracity,  equality, 
benevolence,  and  for  applying  them  to  the  com- 
plicated affairs  of  men.  What  cares  a  young  ad- 
venturer for  the  immutable  laws  of  trade,  when 
he  has  purchased  a  ticket  in  some  lottery  of  specu- 
lation, from  which  he  expects  to  draw  a  fortune  ? 
Out  of  such  an  unbridled,  unchastened  love  of 
gain,  whether  it  traffics  in  townships  of  land  or 
in  twopenny  toys,  do  we  not  know  beforehand, 
there  will  come  infinite  falsehoods,  knavery  and 
bankruptcy?  Let  this  state  of  things  continue, 
and  he  will  be  a  happy  man  who  dares  to  say  of 
any  article  of  food  or  of  apparel,  which  he  eats  or 
wears,  that  it  has  not,  at  some  period  of  its  prep- 
aration, or  in  some  of  its  transfers,  been  contam- 
inated by  fraud.  And  what  a  state  of  society 
would  it  argue,  in  other  respects,  if  the  people  at 
large  should  ever  become  indifferent  to  the  ques- 
tion, whether  fraud  be,  or  be  not,  inwoven  into 
the  texture,  and  kneaded  into  the  substance  of 
what  they  daily  consume, — whether  what  they 
eat  or  drink  or  wear  be  not  an  embodiment  of  the 
spirit  of  lies  .' 

So  the  inordinate  love  of  office  will  present  the 
spectacle  of  gladiatorial  contests, — of  men  strug- 
gling for  station  as  for  life,  and  using  against  each 
other  the  poisonous  weapons  of  calumny  and 
vituperation  ; — while  the  abiding  welfare,  the  true 
greatness  and  prosperity  of  the  people  will  be  like 
the  soil  of  some  neutral  Flanders^  over  which  the 
hostile  bands  of  partisans  will  march  and  coun- 
termarch, and  convert  it  into  battle-fields, — so  that, 


153 

whichever  side  may  triumph,  the  people  will  be 
ruined.  And  even  after  one  cause  or  one  party- 
has  prevailed,  the  conquered  land  will  not  be  wide 
enough  to  settle  a  tithe  of  the  conquerors  upon. 
Hence  must  come  new  rallyings;  new  banners 
must  be  unfurled,  and  the  repose  of  the  land  be 
again  broken  by  the  convulsions  of  party  strife. 
Hence,  too,  the  death-grapple  between  the  defend- 
ers of  institutions  which  ought  to  be  abolished, 
and  the  assailants  of  institutions  which  ought  to  be 
preserved.  Laocoon  cries,  "  My  life  and  my 
children  are  mine."  The  hissing  and  en  wreath- 
ing serpents  respond,  "They  are  ours."  If  each 
party  espouses  and  supports  whatever  is  wrong 
on  its  own  side,  because  such  a  course  is  deemed 
iffecessary  to  union  and  strength  ;  and  denounces 
whatever  is  right  in  the  plans  of  its  antagonists, 
because  such  are  the  approved  tactics  of  opposition; 
if  each  party  sounds  the  loudest  alarms,  when  the 
most  trivial  danger  from  its  opponents  is  appre- 
hended, and  sings  the  gentlest  lullabies  over  perils 
of  its  own  producing,  can  seer  or  prophet  foretell 
but  one  catastrophe  7 

Again ;  we  hear  good  men,  every  day,  bemoan- 
ing the  ignorance  of  certain  portions  of  our  coun- 
try, and  of  individuals  in  all  parts  of  it.  The  use 
often  made  of  the  elective  franchise,  the  crude, 
unphilosophical  notions,  sometimes  advanced 
in  our  legislative  halls  on  questions  of  political 
economy,  the  erroneous  views  entertained  by  por- 
tions of  the  people,  respecting  the  relation  between 
representative  and  constituent,  and  the  revolu- 
tionary ideas  of  others  in  regard  to  the  structure 
of  civil  society, — these  are  cited  as  specimens  and 
proofs  of  the  ignorance  that  abounds  amongst  us. 
No  greater  delusion  can  blind  us.  This  much- 
lamented  ignorance,  in  the  cases  supposed,  is  a 
phantom,  a  spectre.  The  outcry  against  it  is  a 
false  alarm,  diverting  attention  from  a  real  to  aq 
imaginary  danger.     Ignorance  is  not  the  cause  of 


154 

the  evils  referred  to.  With  exceptions  compara- 
tively few,  we  have  but  two  classes  of  ignorant 
persons  amongst  us,  and  they  are  harmless.  In- 
fants and  idiots  are  ignorant ;  few  others  are  so. 
Those  whom  we  are  accustomed  to  call  ignorant, 
are  full  of  false  notions,  as  much  worse  than  igno- 
rance as  wisdom  is  better.  A  merely  ignorant  man 
has  no  skill  in  adapting  means  to  ends,  whereby 
to  jeopard  the  welfare  of  great  interests  or  great 
numbers.  Ignorance  is  blankness  ;  or,  at  most,  a 
lifeless,  inert  mass,  which  can,  indeed,  be  moved 
and  placed  where  you  please,  but  will  stay  where 
it  is  placed.  In  Europe,  there  are  multitudes  of 
ignorant  men, — men  into  whose  minds  no  idea  ever 
entered  respecting  the  duties  of  society  or  of  gov^ 
ernment,  or  the  conditions  of  human  prosperity* 
They,  like  their  work-fellows,  the  cattle,  are  obe- 
dient to  their  masters ;  and  the  range  of  their  ideas 
on  political  or  social  questions,  is  hardly  more 
extensive  than  that  of  the  brutes.  But  with  our 
institutions,  this  state  of  things,  to  any  great  ex- 
tent, is  impossible.  The  very  atmosphere  we 
breathe  is  freighted  with  the  ideas  of  property, 
of  acquisition  and  transmission ;  of  wages,  labor 
and  capital ;  of  political  and  social  rights  ;  of  the 
appointment  to,  and  tenure  of  offices ;  of  the  re- 
ciprocal relations  between  the  great  departments 
of  government — executive,  legislative,  and  judi- 
cial. Every  native-born  child  amongst  us  imbibes 
notions,  either  false  or  true,  on  these  subjects. 
Let  these  notions  be  false  ;  let  an  individual  grow 
up,  with  false  ideas  of  his  own  nature  and  des- 
tiny as  an  immortal  being,  with  false  views  re- 
specting what  government,  laws,  customs,  should 
be  ;  with  no  knowledge  of  the  works,  or  the  opin- 
ions of  those  great  men  who  framed  our  govern- 
ment, and  adjusted  its  various  parts  to  each  other; 
— and  when  such  an  individual  is  invested  with 
the  political  rights  of  citizenship,  with  power  to 


165 

give  an  authoritative  voice  and  vote  upon  the 
affairs  of  his  country,  he  will  look  upon  all  exist- 
ing things  as  rubbish  which  it  is  his  duty  to  sweep 
away,  that  he  may  have  room  for  the  erection  of 
other  structures,  planned  after  the  model  of  his 
own  false  ideas.  No  man  that  ever  lived  could, 
by  mere  intuition  or  instinct,  form  just  opinions 
upon  a  thousand  questions,  pertaining  to  civil 
society,  to  its  jurisprudence,  its  local,  national  and 
international  duties.  Many  truths,  vital  to  the 
welfare  of  the  people,  differ  in  their  reality,  as 
much  from  the  appearances  which  they  present  to 
uninstructed  minds,  as  the  apparent  size  of  the 
sun  differs  from  its  real  size,  which,  in  truth,  is 
so  many  thousand  times  larger  than  the  earth, 
while  to  the  untaught  eye  it  appears  to  be  so 
many  thousand  times  smaller.  And  if  the  hu- 
man propensities  are  here  to  manifest  themselves 
through  the  enlarged  means  of  false  knowledge 
which  our  institutions,  unaided  by  special  instruc- 
tion, will  furnish ;  if  they  are  to  possess  all  the 
instruments  and  furtherances  which  our  doctrine 
of  political  equality  confers  ;  then  the  result  must 
be,  a  power  to  do  evil  almost  infinitely  greater 
than  ever  existed  before,  instigated  by  impulses 
proportionately  strong.  Hence  our  dangers  are  to 
be,  not  those  of  ignorance,  which  would  be  com- 
paratively tolerable,  but  those  of  false  knowledge, 
which  transcend  the  powers  of  mortal  imagination 
to  portray.  Would  you  appreciate  the  amazing 
difference  between  ignorance  and  false  knowledge, 
look  at  France,  before  and  during  her  great  revolu- 
tion. Before  the  revolution,  her  people  were  merely 
ignorant;  during  the  revolution,  they  acted  under 
the  lights  of  false  knowledge.  An  idiot  is  igno- 
rant, and  does  little  harm;  a  maniac  has  false 
ideas,  and  destroys,  burns  and  murders. 

Looking  again  at  the  nature  of  our  institutions, 
we  find  that  it  is  not  the  material  or  corporeal 


166 

interests  of  mah  alone,  that  are  here  decided  by 
the  common  voice ; — such,  for  instance,  as  those 
pertaining  to  finance,  revenue,  the  adjustment  of 
the  great  economical  interests  of  society,  the  rival 
claims  between  agriculture,  commerce  and  manu- 
factures, the  partition  and  distribution  of  legisla- 
tive, judicial  and  executive  powers,  with  a  long 
catalogue  of  others  of  a  kindred  nature  ;  but  also 
those  more  solemn  questions  which  pervade  the 
innermost  sanctuary  of  domestic  life,  and,  for 
worship  or  for  sacrilege,  enter  the  Holy  of  Holies 
in  the  ark  of  society  : — these  also  are  submitted  to 
the  general  arbitrament.  The  haughty  lordling, 
whose  heart  never  felt  one  throb  for  the  welfare 
of  mankind,  gives  vote  and  verdict  on  the  extent 
of  popular  rights;  the  libertine  and  debauchee 
give  vote  and  verdict  on  the  sanctity  of  the  mar- 
riage covenant;  the  atheist  on  the  definition  of 
blasphemy.  Nor  is  this  great  people  invited, 
merely  to  speculate,  and  frame  abstract  theories,, 
on  these  momentous  themes  ;  to  make  picture 
models,  on  paper,  in  their  closets ;  they  are  n#t 
invited  to  sketch  Republics  of  Fancy  •nly,  but 
they  are  commissioned  to  make  Republics  of  Fact  f 
and  in  such  Republics  as  they  please  to  make, 
others,  perforce,  must  please  to  live.  If  I  do  not 
like  my  minister,  or  my  parish,  I  can  sign  offj 
(as  we  term  it,)  and  connect  myself  with  another; 
if  I  do  not  like  my  town,  I  can  move  out  of  it ; 
but  where  shall  a  man  sign  to,  or  move  to,  out  of 
a  bad  world?  Nor  do  our  people  hold  these 
powers,  as  an  ornament  merely,  as  some  ostensi- 
ble but  useless  badge  of  Freedom ;  but  they  keep 
them  as  instruments  for  use,  and  sometimes  wield 
them  as  weapons  of  revenge.  So  closely  indeed 
are  we  inwoven  in  the  same  web  of  fate,  that  a 
vote  given  on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri  or  Arkan- 
sas, may  shake  every  plantation  and  warehouse 
on  the  Atlantic,  and,  reaching  seaward,  overtake 


157 

and  baffle  enterprise,  into  whatever  oceans  it  may 
have  penetrated. 

Such,  then,  is  our  condition.  The  minds  that 
are  to  regulate  all  things  and  govern  all  things,  in 
this  country,  are  innately  strong;  they  are  in- 
tensely stimulated;  they  are  supplied  with  the 
most  formidable  artillery  of  means ;  and  each  one 
is  authorized  to  form  its  own  working-plan,  its 
own  ground-scheme,  according  to  which,  when 
the  social  edifice  has  been  taken  to  pieces,  it  is  to  be 
reconstructed ; — some  are  for  going  back  a  thousand 
or  two  thousand  years  for  their  model;  others, 
for  introducing  what  they  consider  the  millen- 
nium, at  once,  by  force  of  law,  or  by  force  with- 
out law. 

And  now,  my  friends,  I  ask,  with  the  deepest 
anxiety,  what  institutions  exist  amongst  us, 
which  at  once  possess  the  power  and  are  ad- 
ministered with  the  efficiency,  requisite  to  save 
ns  from  the  dangers  that  spring  up  in  our  own 
bosoms?  That  the  propensities,  which  each 
generation  brings  into  the  world,  possess  terrific 
power,  and  are  capable  of  inflicting  the  com- 
pletest  ruin,  none  can  deny.  Nor  will  it  be  ques- 
tioned that  amongst  ns,  they  have  an  open  career, 
and  a  command  of  means,  such  as  never  before 
coexisted.  What  antagonist  power  have  we  pro- 
vided against  them  7  By  what  exorcism  can  we 
lay  the  spirits  we  have  raised  7  Once,  brute 
force,  directed  by  a  few  men,  trampled  upon  the 
many.  Here,  the  many  are  tlie  possessors  of  that 
very  force,  and  have  almost  abolished  its  use  as 
a  means  of  government.  The  French  gendar- 
merie^ the  British  horse-guards,  the  dreadnil  pun- 
ishment of  the  Siberian  mines,  will  never  be  copied 
here.  Should  the  government  resort  to  a  standing 
army,  that  army  would  consist  of  the  very  forces 
they  dread,  organized,  equipped  and  officered. 
14 


158 

Can  laws  save  us  7  With  ns,  the  very  idea  of 
legislation  is  reversed.  Once,  the  law  prescribed 
the  actions  and  shaped  the  wills  of  the  multitude ; 
here,  the  wills  of  the  multitude  prescribe  and 
shape  the  law.  With  us,  legislators  study  the 
will  of  the  multitude,  just  as  natural  philosophers 
study  a  volcano, — not  with  any  expectation  of 
doing  aught  to  the  volcano,  but  to  see  what  the 
volcano  is  about  to  do  to  them.  While  the  law 
was  clothed  with  majesty  and  power,  and  the 
mind  of  the  multitude  was  weak,  then,  as  in  all 
cases  of  a  conflict  between  unequal  forces,  the 
law  prevailed.  But  now,  when  the  law  is  weak, 
and  the  passions  of  the  multitude  have  gathered 
irresistible  strength,  it  is  fallacious  and  insane  to 
look  for  security  in  the  moral  force  of  the  law. 
As  well  might  the  man  who  has  erected  his 
dwelling  upon  the  verge  of  a  cliff*  overhanging 
the  deep,  when  the  equilibrium  of  the  atmosphere 
is  destroyed,  and  the  elements  are  on  fire,  and 
every  billow  is  excavating  his  foundations,  ex- 
pect to  still  the  tempest  by  reading  the  Riot-act. 
Government  and  law,  which  ought  to  be  the  allies 
of  justice  and  the  everlasting  foes  of  violence  and 
wrong,  will  here  be  moulded  into  the  simiUtude 
of  the  public  mind,  and  will  answer  to  it,  as,  in 
water,  face  answereth  to  face. 

But,  if  arms  themselves  would  be  beaten  in 
such  a  contest,  if  those  who  should  propose  the 
renewal  of  ancient  severities  in  punishment, 
would  themselves  be  punished,  have  we  not  some 
other  resource  for  the  security  of  moderation  and 
self-denial,  and  for  the  supremacy  of  order  and 
law  7  Have  not  the  scholars  who  adorn  the  halls 
of  learning,  and  woo  almost  a  hallowed  serenity 
to  dwell  in  their  academic  shades, — have  they 
not,  amongst  all  the  languages  which  they  speak, 
some  tongue  by  which  they  can  charm  and  pacify 
the  mighty  spirits  we  have  evoked  into  being? 


159 

Alas !  while  scholars  and  academists  are  earnest- 
ly debating  such  questions,  as  whether  the  name 
of  error,  shall  or  shall  not  be  spelled  with  the  let- 
ter M,  the  soul  of  error  becomes  incarnate,  and 
starts  up,  as  from  the  earth,  myriad-formed  and 
ubiquitous,  and  stands  by  the  side  of  every  man, 
and  whispers  transgression  into  his  ear,  and,  like 
the  first  Tempter,  entices  him  to  pluck  the  beau- 
tiful, but  fatal  fruit  of  some  forbidden  tree,  •ur 
ancestors  seem  to  have  had  great  faith  that  the 
alumni  of  our  colleges  would  diffuse  a  higher 
order  of  intelligence  through  the  whole  mass  of 
the  people,  and  would  imbue  them  with  a  love  of 
sobriety  and  a  reverence  for  justice.  But  either 
the  leaven  has  lost  its  virtue,  or  the  lump  has 
become  too  large;  for,  surely,  in  our  day,  the 
mass  is  not  all  leavened. 

I  speak  with  reverence  of  the  labors  of  another 
profession,  in  their  sacred  calling.  No  other 
country  in  the  world  has  ever  been  blessed  with 
a  body  of  clergymen,  so  learned,  so  faithful,  so 
devout  as  ours.  But  by  traditionary  custom  and 
the  ingrained  habits  of  the  people,  the  efforts  of 
the  clergy  are  mainly  expended  upon  those  who 
have  passed  the  forming  state; — upon  adults, 
whose  characters,  as  we  are  accustomed  to  ex- 
press it,  have  become  fixed,  which  being  inter- 
preted, means,  that  they  have  passed  from  fluid 
into  flint.  Look  at  the  ablest  pastor,  in  the  midst 
of  an  adult  congregation  whose  early  education 
has  been  neglected.  Though  he  be  consumed  of 
zeal,  and  ready  to  die  of  toil,  in  their  behalf,  yet 
I  seem  to  see  him,  expending  his  strength  and  his 
years  amongst  them,  like  one  solitary  arborist 
working,  single-handed  and  alone,  in  a  wide  for- 
est, where  there  are  hundreds  of  stooping  and 
contorted  trees,  and  he,  striving  with  tackle  and 
guy-ropes  to  undouble  their  convolutions,  and  to 
straighten   the  flexures  in   trunks  whose   fibres 


160 

curled  as  they  grew;  and,  with  his  naked  hand, 
to  coax  out  gnarls  and  nodosities  hard  enough  to 
glance  off  lightning ; — when,  could  he  have  guid- 
ed and  trained  them  while  yet  they  were  tender 
shoots  and  young  saplings,  he  could  have  shaped 
them  into  beauty,  a  hundred  in  a  day. 

But  perhaps  others  may  look  for  security  to  the 
public  Press,  which  has  now  taken  its  place 
amongst  the  organized  forces  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion. Probably  its  political  department  supplies 
more  than  half  the  reading  of  the  mass  of  our 
people.  But,  bating  the  point,  whether,  in  times 
of  public  excitement,  when  the  sobriety  and 
thoughtfulness  of  wisdom,  when  severe  and  exact 
truth  are,  more  than  ever  else,  necessary, — 
whether,  at  such  times,  the  press  is  not  itself  lia- 
ble to  be  inflamed  by  the  heats  it  should  allay, 
and  to  be  perverted  by  the  obliquities  it  should 
rectify ; — bating  this  point,  it  is  still  obvious  that 
its  principal  efforts  are  expended  upon  one  de- 
partment only  of  all  our  social  duties.  The  very 
existence  of  the  newspaper  press,  for  any  useful 
purpose,  presupposes  that  the  people  are  already 
supplied  with  the  elements  of  knowledge  and  in- 
spired with  the  love  of  right ;  and  are  therefore 
prepared  to  decide,  with  intelligence  and  honesty, 
those  complicated  and  conflicting  claims,  which 
the  tide  of  events  is  constantly  presenting,  and 
which,  by  the  myriad  messengers  of  the  press, 
are  carried  to  every  man's  fireside  for  his  adjudi- 
cation. For,  of  what  value  is  it,  that  we  have 
the  most  wisely-framed  government  on  earth  ;  to 
what  end  is  it,  that  the  wisest  schemes  which  a 
philanthropic  statesmanship  can  devise,  are  pro- 
pounded to  the  people,  if  this  people  has  not  the 
intelligence  to  understand,  or  the  integrity  to 
espouse  them?  Each  of  two  things  is  equally 
necessary  to  our  political  prosperity ;  namely,  just 
prmciples  of  government  and  administration,  on 
one  side,  and  a  people  able  to  understand  and 


161 

resolute  to  uphold  them,  on  the  other.  Of  what 
use  IS  the  most  exquisite  music  ever  composed 
by  the  greatest  masters  of  the  art,  until  you  have 
orchestra  or  choir  that  can  perform  the  pieces? 
Pupils  must  thoroughly  master  the  vocal  elements, 
musical  language  must  be  learned,  voices  must 
be  long  and  severely  trained,  or  the  divinest  com- 
positions of  Haydn  or  Mozart  would  only  set  the 
teeth  of  an  auditory  on  edge.  And  so  must  it  be 
with  our  government  and  laws  ; — the  best  will  be 
useless,  unless  we  have  a  people  who  will  appre- 
ciate and  uphold  them. 

Again,  then,  I  ask,  with  unmitigated  anxiety, 
what  institutions  we  now  possess,  that  can  fur- 
nish detence  or  barrier  against  the  action  of  those 
propensities,  which  each  generation  brings  into 
the  world  as  a  part  of  its  being ;  and  which  our 
institutions  foster  and  stimulate  into  unparalleled 
activity  and  vigor?  Can  any  Christian  man 
believe,  that  God  has  so  constituted  and  so  gov- 
erns the  human  race,  that  it  is  always  and  neces- 
sarily to  be  suicidal  of  its  earthly  welfare  7  No  ! 
the  thought  is  impious.  The  same  Almighty 
power  which  implants  in  our  nature  the  germs 
of  the*  terrible  propensities,  has  endowed  us 
also,  with  reason  and  conscience  and  a  sense  of 
responsibility  to  Him ;  and,  in  his  providence,  he 
has  opened  a  way  by  which  these  nobler  faculties 
can  be  elevated  into  dominion  and  supremacy 
over  the  appetites  and  passions.  But  if  this  is 
ever  done,  it  must  be  mainly  done,  during  the 
docile  and  teachable  years  of  childhood.  I  repeat 
it,  my  friends,  if  this  is  ever  done,  it  must  be 
mainly  done,  during  the  docile  and  teachable  years 
of  childhood.  Wretched,  incorrigible,  demoniac, 
as  any  human  being  may  ever  have  become,  there 
was  a  time  when  he  took  the  first  step  in  error 
and  in  crime ;  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  just 
nodded  to  his  fall,  on  the  brink  of  ruin.  Then, 
14* 


162 

ere  be  was  irrecoverably  lost,  ere  he  plunged  into 
the  abyss  of  infamy  and  guilt,  he  might  have 
been  recalled,  as  it  were  by  the  waving  of  the 
hand.  Fathers,  mothers,  patriots.  Christians !  it 
is  this  very  hour  of  peril  through  which  our  chil- 
dren are  now  passing.  They  know  it  not,  but 
we  know  it ;  and  where  the  knowledge  is,  there 
rests  the  responsibility.  Society  is  responsible ; — 
not  society  considered  as  an  abstraction,  but  soci- 
ety as  it  consists  of  living  members,  which  mem- 
bers we  are.  Clergymen  are  responsible  ; — all 
men  who  have  enjoyed  the  opportunities  of  a 
higher  education  in  colleges  and  universities  are 
responsible,  for  they  can  convert  their  means, 
whether  of  time  or  of  talent,  into  instruments  for 
elevating  the  masses  of  the  people.  The  con- 
ductors of  the  public  press  are  responsible,  for 
they  have  daily  access  to  the  public  ear,  and  can 
infuse  just  notions  of  this  high  duty  into  the  pub- 
lic mind.  Legislators  and  rulers  are  responsible. 
In  our  country,  and  in  our  times,  no  man  is  wor- 
thy the  honored  name  of  a  statesman,  who  does 
not  include  the  highest  practicable  education  of 
the  people  in  all  his  plans  of  administration.  He 
may  have  eloquence,  he  may  have  a  knowledge 
of  all  history,  diplomacy,  jurisprudence;  and  by 
these  he  might  claim,  in  other  countries,  the 
elevated  rank  of  a  statesman  ;  but,  unless  he 
speaks,  plans,  labors,  at  all  times  and  in  all 
places,  for  the  culture  and  edification  of  the  whole 
people,  he  is  not,  he  cannot  be,  an  American 
statesman. 

If  this  dread  responsibility  for  the  fate  of  our 
children  be  disregarded,  how,  when  called  upon, 
in  the  great  eventful  day,  to  give  an  account  of 
the  manner  in  which  our  earthly  duties  have  been 
discharged,  can  we  expect  to  escape  the  condem- 
nation :  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have  not  done  it  to  one 
of  the  least  of  these,  ye  have  not  done  it  unto  me  ^  " 


LECTURE  IV. 

1S4.*. 


LECTURE  IV. 

WHAT  GOD   DOES,   AND  WHAT  HE   LEAVES  FOE 
MAN  TO  DO.  IN  THE  WORK  OF  EDUCATION. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Convention  : 

With  the  coming  of  another  year,  I  come  to 
you  again,  asking  and  offering  sympathy  for  the 
welfare  of  our  children. 

When  I  last  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  a  con- 
vention of  the  friends  of  Common  Schools  in  this 
county,  I  addressed  them  on  the  subject  of  the 
Necessity  of  Education^  under  a  government  and 
with  institutions  like  our  ovrn.  I  endeavored  to 
demonstrate,  that  here,  in  our  country  and  in  our 
age,  the  enlightenment  of  the  intellect,  and  the  cul- 
tivation of  the  affections  of  the  rising  generation, 
had  not  been  left  optional  with  us,  but  made  indis- 
petisable ;  that  the  efficient  and  thorough  educa- 
tion of  the  young  was  not  merely  commended  to 
us,  as  a  means  of  promoting  private  and  public 
welfare,  but  commAinded^  as  the  only  safeguard 
against  such  a  variety  and  extent  of  calamities  as 
no  nation  on  earth  has  ever  suffered. 

The  argument,  in  brief,  ran  thus : — All  men 
are  born  into  the  world  with  many  appetites  and 
propensities  of  a  purely  animal  and  selfish  nature. 
Some  of  these  appetites  and  propensities  are  neces- 
sary to  the  existence  of  the  individual,  and  therefore 
they  adhere  to  him  and  remain  a  part  of  him  as  long 
as  he  lives ;  others  are  necessary  to  the  continuance 
of  the  race,  and  therefore  we  must  expect  that  they 
will  be  reproduced  with  every  new-born  generation, 
to  the  end  of  time.     Each  individual,  for  instance, 


166 

brings  into  the  world,  and  carries  through  it,  an 
appetite  for  food;  and  this  appetite  perpetually 
tends  to  an  excess  ruinous  to  health  and  fatal  to 
life, — among  the  vulgar  running  into  the  coarse- 
ness of  gluttony, — among  the  refined  to  a  no  less 
injurious  epicurism.  Each  individual  brings  into 
the  world,  and  carries  through  it,  an  appetite  for 
beverage;  and  what  multitudes  has  this  desire 
stretched  upon  the  "  burning  marie"  of  Intem- 
perance !  All  are  born  with  a  love  of  wealth,  or, 
at  least,  of  acquisition,  which  leads  to  wealth ; — 
and  we  should  be  unfit  to  live  in  such  a  world  as 
this  is,  without  such  an  innate  tendency  ;  because, 
in  health,  we  must  lay  by  something  for  sickness, 
and  in  the  strength  of  manhood,  something  for  the 
helplessness  of  children,  and  for  the  feebleness  of 
old  age.  Yet  how  easily  does  this  propensity  run 
out  into  avarice  and  cupidity,  leading  on  to  fraud, 
robbery,  rapine,  and  all  the  enormities  of  the 
slave-trade,  the  opium-trade,  and  the  rum-trade. 
So  we  all  have  a  desire  for  the  good- will  of  others, 
— an  instinct  beautifully  adapted  to  diffuse  pleasure 
over  all  the  intercourse  of  life.  But  in  this  coun- 
try, where  the  rule  once  was  that  the  honors  of  office 
should  be  awarded  to  merit, — detur  dignior% — 
the  sign  seems  to  have  been  mistaken  for  the  thing 
signified;  and  now,  whenever  there  is  an  office 
to  be  filled,  a  crowd  of  applicants  throng  around, 
more  than  sufficient,  in  point  of  numbers^  to  fill 
the  vacancy  for  the  next  thousand  years.  Again, 
a  certain  feeling  of  self-estimation  is  absolutely 
essential  to  us  all ;  because,  without  it,  every  man 
would  be  awed  into  annihilation  before  the  ma- 
jesty of  the  multitude,  or  the  glories  of  the  visible 
universe.  But  how  readily  does  this  feeling  of 
self-importance  burst  out  into  pride  and  a  love 
of  domination,  and  that  intolerance  towards  the 
opinions  of  others,  which  does  not  seek  to  enlighten 


ler 

or  persuade,  but  dogmatizes,  denounces,  and  per- 
secutes. 

All  history  cries  out,  with  all  her  testimonies 
and  her  admonitions,  proclaiming  to  what  excesses 
these  innate  and  universal  appetites  may  grow, 
when  supplied  with  opportunities  and  incitements 
for  indulgence.  If  men  consult  their  propensities 
alone,  no  sacrifice  ever  seems  too  great  to  pur- 
chase indulgence  for  the  lowest  and  meanest  of 
them  all.  Each  one  of  them  is  not  only  capable 
of  unlimited  growth,  but  each,  also,  is  blind  to  all 
ooiisequences,  and  demands  gratification,  though 
the  next  hour  brings  perdition  as  the  penalty. 
We  need  not  go  back  to  patriarchal  or  primeval 
times  to  find  a  man  who,  because  he  was  hungry 
or  thirsty,  would  barter  a  glorious  inheritance  for 
a  mess  of  pottage  ;  or  a  woman  who  would  forfeit 
paradise  through  curiosity  to  taste  an  apple.  When 
the  political  destiny  of  his  family  and  of  all  France 
depended  upon  the  speed  which  Louis  XVI. 
should  make  in  his  flight  from  Paris,  he  paused 
by  the  way-side  to  drink  a  bottle  of  Burgundy, — 
said  coolly,  that  it  was  the  best  bottle  he  ever 
drank, — and  suflered  the  scale  which  held  the 
fortunes  of  twenty-five  millions  of  people,  to  tiirn^ 
irrevocably^  while  he  prolonged  his  gustations.  To 
add  a  few  more  items  to  his  inventory  of  conquered 
nations,  Napoleon  snatched  the  scythe  from  the 
hand  of  Death,  and,  forerunning  the  great  De- 
stroyer, he  strowed  the  earth,  from  torrid  sands 
to  Arctic  snows,  with  the  corses  of  human  slain, 
mowed  down  in  the  morning  beauty  and  vigor  of 
life ;  and,  rather  than  not  to  be  emperor  at  all, 
he  would  have  reigned  the  emperor  of  a  European 
solitude.  He  played  the  game  of  war,  as  he  played 
his  favorite  game  of  chess, — for  the  sake  of  tri- 
umph,— making  no  more  account  of  nations  than 
of  pawns.  Pope  Innocent  III,  founded  an  Inqui- 
sition, modelled  after  the  plan  of  Pandemonium, 


168 

that  he  might  compel  mankind  to  acknowledge 
the  infallibility  of  his  dogmas.  Notwithstanding 
the  manifest  intentions  of  nature  in  making  the 
sexes  almost  numerically  equal,  the  Sultan  culls 
nations  to  fill  his  seraglio  with  beauty.  Did  not 
Mark  Anthony  forget  his  hard-earned  fame,  per- 
fidiously abandon  his  faithful  troops,  and  shut 
his  eyes  upon  the  vision  of  a  kingdom,  for  a  tran- 
sient hour  of  voluptuousness  in  the  arms  of  Cleo- 
patra 7  Herod  hears  that  a  man-child  is  born  in 
Judea,  who  may  one  day  endanger  his  throne ; 
and  forthwith,  to  avert  that  possible  event,  he 
murders  all  the  male  children  in  the  land  under 
two  years  of  age  ;  and  the  moment  power  was 
given,  a  woman,  to  avenge  a  private  pique,  brings 
in  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist  in  a  charger. 
Even  good  men, — those  for  whose  steadfastness 
we  would  almost  be  willing  to  pledge  our  lives, — 
exemplify  the  terrible  strength  of  the  propensities. 
Moses  rebels  ;  David  murders :  Peter,  although 
forewarned,  yet  denies  his  Master,  and  forswears 
himself. 

Now,  the  germs  or  elements  of  these  propen- 
sities belong  to  us  all.  We  possess  them  at  birth ; 
they  abide  with  us  till  death.  Yast  differences 
exist  in  the  power  which  they  exert  over  men, 
owing  to  differences  in  their  innate  vigor;  still 
greater  differences,  perhaps,  result  from  early  edu- 
cation. In  bad  men  they  predominate,  and  break 
out  into  the  commission  of  as  much  iniquity  as 
finite  beings,  with  limited  means,  can  compass. 
They  exist  also  in  good  men ;  but,  in  them,  they 
are  either  feebly  developed,  or  they  are  bound 
and  leashed  in  by  pure  and  holy  affections.  By 
nature,  there  were  boiling  seas  of  passion  in  the 
breasts  of  Socrates  and  of  Washington  ;  but  god- 
like sentiments  of  justice  and  duty  and  benevo- 
lence kept  down  their  rage,  as  the  deep  granite 
beneath  New  England's  soil  keeps  down  the  cen- 


169 

tral  fires  of  the  globe,  and  forbids  earthquake  or 
volcano  to  agitate  her  surface.  When  subordi- 
nated to  conscience  and  the  will  of  God,  these 
propensities  give  ardor  to  our  zeal  and  strength  to 
our  exertions ;  just  as  the  genius  of  man  converts 
wind  and  tire  from  destroyers  into  servants. 

From  our  very  constitution,  then,  there  is  a 
downward  gravitation  forever  to  be  overcome. 
The  perpetual  bias  of  our  instincts  is,  from  com- 
petency and  temperance  to  luxury  and  inebria- 
tion; from  frugality  to  avarice;  from  honest  earn- 
ings to  fraudulent  gains ;  from  a  laudable  desire  of 
reputation,  and  a  reasonable  self-estimate,  to  un- 
hallowed ambition,  and  a  determination  to  usurp 
the  prerogative  of  God  by  writing  our  creeds  on 
other  men's  souls.  Hence  these  propensities  re- 
quire some  mighty  counterpoise  to  balance  their 
proclivity  to  wrong.  They  must  be  governed, — 
either  by  the  pressure  of  outward  force,  or  by  the 
supremacy  of  inward  principle.  In  other  coun- 
tries and  ages,  external  force, — the  civil  exe- 
cutioner, Pretorian  cohorts.  Janizaries,  standing 
armies,  an  established  priesthood, — have  kept 
them  down.  The  propensities  and  appetites  of  a 
few  men  have  overlaid  and  smothered  those  of 
the  rest.  A  few  men,  whom  we  call  tyrants  and 
monsters,  having  got  the  mastery,  have  prevented 
thousands  of  others  from  being  tyrants  and  mon- 
sters like  themselves.  And  although  it  is  with 
entire  justice  that  we  charge  the  despotisms  of 
the  old  world  with  having  dwarfed  and  crippled 
whatever  is  great  and  noble  in  human  nature ; 
yet  it  is  equally  true  that  they  have  dwarfed  and 
crippled,  in  an  equal  degree,  whatever  is  injurious 
and  base.  The  Neros  and  Napoleons  have  pre- 
vented others  from  being  Neros  and  Napoleons,  as 
well  as  from  becoming  Senecas  and  Howards. 

But  with  the  changed  institutions  of  this  coun- 
try, all  is  changed.  Here  history  may  be  said,  in 
15 


familiar  phrase,  not  merely  to  have  turned  over  a 
new  leaf,  but  to  have  opened  a  new  set  of  books. 
With  our  Revolution,  the  current  of  human  events 
was  turned  quite  round,  and  set  upon  a  new  course. 
That  external  power  which,  theretofore,  had  pal- 
sied the  propensities  of  the  mass,  was  abolished. 
Instead  of  the  old  axiom,  that  the  ruler  is  a  lord, 
— a  vicegerent  of  God, — here,  to  a  proverb,  rulers 
are  servants.  Lightly  and  fearfully  the  law  lays 
its  hand  upon  men;  and,  should  the  wisest  law 
ever  framed,  chafe  the  passions  or  propensities  of 
the  majority,  or  of  men  who  can  muster  a  major- 
ity, they  speak  and  the  law  perishes.  The  will 
of  the  people  must  be  our  law,  whether  that  will 
reads  the  moral  code  forwards  or  backwards. 

Now,  for  one  moment,  compare  the  collected 
vastness  of  men's  desires,  with  the  sum  of  the 
world's  resources.  Compare  the  demand  with 
the  supply,  where  the  propensities  are  the  cus- 
tomers. Suppose  the  wealth  of  this  country  were 
divided  into  fifteen  million  equal  parts,  and  each 
man  were  allowed  to  subscribe  for  what  number 
of  shares  he  might  please ;  how  many,  think  you, 
would  have  subscribed,  before  it  would  be  an- 
nounced that  all  the  stock  had  been  taken  up? 
Had  each  man  permission  to  drop  a  folded  ballot 
into  the  urn  of  fate,  designating  the  rank  and  the 
office  which  he  and  his  children  should  hold, 
would  not  the  nominal  aristocracy  be  tremen- 
dous ?  Were  each  religious  dogmatist  and  bigot 
authorized  to  write  out  articles  of  faith  for  uni- 
versal adoption,  what  a  mad-house  of  creeds  and 
theological  systems  would  there  be !  But  this 
is  endless.  All  know,  if  every  holder  of  a  lottery 
ticket  could  name  the  amount  of  his  prize,  how 
soon  the  office  would  be  bankrupt. 

Now  the  simple  question  for  an  American,  is, 
whether  all  this  mighty  accession  of  power,  grow- 
ing out  of  our  free  institutions,  shall  or  shall  not 


171 

be  placed  in  the  hands  of  these  ravenous  and 
tyrannizing  propensities. 

From  this  view  of  the  subject  it  is  obvious,  that 
we  may  become  just  as  much  worse  than  any 
other  nation  that  ever  existed,  as  the  founders  of 
our  institutions  hoped  we  should  be  better.  If 
the  propensities  are  to  prevail,  then  speculation 
will  supersede  industry ;  violence  will  usurp  the 
prerogatives  of  the  law ;  the  witness  Avill  be  per- 
jured upon  the  stand,  and  the  guilty  be  rescued  by 
forsworn  jurors  ;  the  grand  council-halls  of  the 
nation  will  be  converted  from  an  Aireopagus  of 
wise  and  reverend  men,  into  a  gladiatorial  ring; 
the  depositaries  of  public  and  of  private  trusts 
will  administer  them  for  personal  ends;  not  only 
individuals  but  States  will  become  reckless  of 
their  obligations ;  elections  will  be  decided  by 
bribery  and  corruption ;  and  the  newspaper  press, 
which  scatters  its  sheets  over  the  country,  thick 
as  snow-flakes  in  a  wintry  storm,  will  justify 
whatever  is  wrong,  on  one  side,  and  vilify  what- 
ever is  right  on  the  other,  until  nothing  that  is 
right  will  be  left  on  either.  Ay,  my  friends,  if 
you  put  your  ear  to  the  ground,  can  you  not  hear, 
even  now,  the  sappers  and  miners  at  their  work  7 

Even  in  the  present  state  of  society,  and  with 
all  our  boastings  of  civilization  and  Christianity, 
if  all  men  were  certain  that  they  could,  with  en- 
tire impunity,  indulge  their  wishes  for  a  single 
night,  what  a  world  would  be  revealed  to  us  in 
the  morning !  Should  all  selfish  desires  at  once 
burst  their  confines,  and  swell  to  the  extent  of 
their  capacity,  it  would  be  as  though  each  drop 
of  the  morning  dew  were  suddenly  enlarged  into 
an  ocean. 

Does  any  possessor  of  wealth,  or  leisure,  or 
learning,  ask,  *' What  interest  have  I  in  the  edu- 
cation of  the  multitude?"  I  reply;  you  have  at 
least  this  interest,  that,  unless  their  minds  are 


172 

enlightened  by  knowledge  and  controlled  by  vir- 
tuous principle,  there  is  not,  between  their  appe- 
tites and  all  you  hold  dear  upon  earth,  so  much 
as  the  defence  of  a  spider's  web.  Without  a 
sense  of  the  inviolability  of  property,  your  deeds 
are  but  waste-paper.  Without  a  sense  of  the 
sacredness  of  person  and  life,  you  are  only  a 
watch-dog  whose  baying  is  to  be  silenced,  that 
your  house  may  be  more  securely  entered  and 
plundered.  Even  a  guilty  few  can  destroy  the 
peace  of  the  virtuous  many.  One  incendiary  can 
burn  faster  than  a  thousand  industrious  workmen 
can  build ; — and  this  is  as  true  of  social  rights  as 
of  material  edifices. 

Had  God,  then,  provided  no  means  by  which 
this  part  of  our  nature  can  be  controlled,  we 
should  indeed  say,  that  we  had  been  lifted  up  to 
heaven  in  point  of  privileges,  that  we  might,  so 
much  the  more  certainly,  be  dashed  in  pieces  by 
our  inevitable  fall. 

But  we  have  not  been  inexorably  subjected  to 
such  a  doom.  If  it  befalls  us,  it  befalls  us  with  our 
own  consent.  Means  of  escape  are  vouchsafed  ; 
and  not  of  escape  only,  but  of  infinite  peace  and 

joy- 

The  world  is  to  be  rescued  through  physical, 
intellectual,  moral  and  religious  action  upon  the 
young.  I  say,  upon  the  young,  for  the  number 
of  grown  men  who  ever  change  character  for  the 
better,  is  far  too  small  to  lay  the  foundation  of 
any  hope  of  a  general  reform.  After  the  age  of 
twenty-five, — or  even  after  that  of  twenty-one 
years, — few  men  commence  a  course  of  virtue  or 
abandon  one  of  vice; — and  even  when  this  is 
done,  its  cause  almost  invariably  dates  back  to 
some  early  impression,  which  for  many  years  has 
lain  dormant  in  the  mind.  Let  that  period  be 
passed,  and,  ordinarily,  you  must  wait  for  a 
death-bed  repentance ;  and  often,  will  your  wait- 
ing be  in  vain  even  for  that.     By  the  time  the  age 


173 

of  manhood  has  been  reached,  the  course  of  life 
has  usually  acquired  a  momentum  which  propels 
it  onwards,  substantially  in  the  same  direction,  to 
its  close. 

Now  for  the  great  end  of  ransoming  the  human 
race  from  its  brutish  instincts  and  its  demoniac 
indulgences,  let  us  see  what  the  benevolence  of 
God  does  for  us,  in  the  common  course  of  nature 
and  providence,  and  what  His  wisdom  has  left 
for  us  to  do ; — because  it  is  obvious,  that  He  may 
go  on  doing  his  part  of  the  work,  for  a  hundred, 
or  for  a  thousand  generations,  and  yet,  unless  we 
also  do  our  part,  the  work  never  will  be  done. 
And  it  may  be  further  remarked,  that  while  He 
does  His  part,  and  we  neglect  ours,  the  work,  so 
far  from  being  half  done,  will  be  worse  than  un- 
done. Our  folly  perverting  His  goodness  will  be 
like  an  unskilful  hand  operating  upon  an  exquis- 
itely wrought  machine.  But  His  part  of  the 
work, — that  is,  the  general  course  of  nature  and 
providence, — will  go  on,  whether  we  cooperate  or 
oppose.  It  is  not  for  us,  therefore,  to  say  with 
the  Psalmist,  "Awake  !  why  sleepest  Thou^  O 
Lord  ! "  for  it  is  not  the  Lord  who  sleeps,  but  it  is 
we  ourselves. 

The  general  truth  here  stated,  may  find  its 
illustrations  and  analogies  in  all  the  departments 
of  nature.     I  will  give  only  a  single  example. 

The  husbandman  is  promised  that  seed-time 
and  harvest  shall  not  fail ;  and,  in  pursuance  of 
that  promise,  the  fountains  of  the  clouds  are 
opened  to  saturate  the  earth  with  fatness;  the 
sun  shoots  a  genial  warmth  into  the  soil,  and  the 
rich  mould  and  the  richer  atmosphere  are  ready 
for  a  magical  transformation  into  verdure  and 
flowers  and  fruit; — but  unless  the  husbandman 
knows  how  to  scatter  the  seed  at  the  right  time, 
and  to  cultivate  the  tender  plant  in  the  right  way, 
in  vain  shall  the  fields  be  visited  by  the  reapers. 
15* 


174 

For  all  Africa  and  for  all  Asia,  nature  has  don« 
her  part  of  the  work,  for  thousands  of  years ;  and 
yet  the  miserable  generations  rise  and  suffer  and 
perish,  like  so  many  swarms  of  insects  on  the 
banks  of  the  Nile  or  the  Ganges.  Nor  does  na- 
ture show  any  symptoms  of  impatience  at  their 
delay  ; — with  awful  tranquillity,  she  waits  for 
their  part  of  the  work  to  be  done. 

The  first  thing  done  for  us,  in  the  course  of 
nature  and  providence,  is  the  creation  of  children 
in  a  state  of  entire  ignorance  and  receptiveness. 
Were  children  born  with  characters  full-formed, 
— with  minds  inflexibly  made  up  on  all  pos- 
sible subjects,  and  armed  at  all  points  for  their 
defence ; — were  babes,  as  soon  as  they  can  speak, 
to  start  up  into  ferocious  partisans  and  fanatics, — 
then  nature  would  have  done  the  whole  work, 
and  left  nothing  for  us  to  do  ; — nay,  in  that  case, 
she  would  have  rendered  it  impossible  for  us  to 
interfere,  to  any  practical  purpose.  But  it  depends 
hardly  less  upon  the  language  of  the  household, 
which  of  all  the  tongues  upon  earth,  the  child 
shall  most  readily  speak,  than  it  does  upon  the 
opinions  of  the  household,  what  opinions,  on  a 
great  variety  of  the  most  important  subjects,  he 
shall  adopt.  Hence  we  find,  almost  without  ex- 
ception, the  children  of  Pagans  to  be  Pagans ;  of 
Mahommedans,  Mahommedans;  and  of  Catholics 
and  Protestants,  to  be  respectively,  Catholics  and 
Protestants.  It  depends  upon  residence  in  a  par- 
ticular latitude  and  longitude,  what  natural  ob- 
jects a  child  shall  become  acquainted  with ;  and 
one  who  is  born  in  the  frigid  zone  will  be  as  little 
accustomed  to  the  social  habits  as  to  the  natural 
productions  of  the  torrid.  And  finally,  it  depends 
upon  the  examples  and  the  institutions,  amidst 
which  a  child  is  reared,  what  shall  be  his  earliest, 
and  probably  his  most  enduring  impressions, 
respecting  the  great  realities  of  existence. 


175 

Here,  then,  is  an  ample  sphere  for  the  exertion 
of  our  influence.  We  should  transfuse  our  best 
sentiments,  transplant  our  best  ideas  and  habits, 
into  the  receptive  soul  of  childhood.  It  is  our 
duty  to  separate  the  right  from  the  wrong,  in  our 
own  minds  and  conduct,  and  to  incorporate  the 
former  only  in  the  minds  and  conduct  of  children. 
Then  the  force  of  habit  will  aid  them  in  doing 
those  duties,  whose  performance,  in  our  own  case, 
habit  may  have  opposed.  It  is  an  admirable 
proverb  which  says,  "  Happy  is  the  man  whose 
habits  are  his  friends."  *  Could  we  ever  know 
that  we  are  infallibly  right. on  all  the  great  ques- 
tions which  pertain  to  our  temporal  and  eternal 
destiny,  then  it  might  be  our  duty  to  inculcate 
our  views  authoritatively  and  dogmatically  upon 
children,  and  to  insist  upon  their  acquiescence 
and  conformity;  but  as  we  can  never  know  in 
this  life,  with  absolute  and  positive  certainty,  that 
we  are  right  on  such  mighty  themes,  it  becomes 
our  first  and  highest  duty  to  awaken  in  their 
hearts  the  sentiment  of  truth,  to  inculcate  the 
love  and  the  pursuit  of  it,  wherever  it  may  be 
found,  and  to  teach  them  to  abandon  everything 
else,  even  their  own  most  cherished  opinions  for 
its  sake.  That  is  the  worst  of  sacrilege  which 
creates  a  belief  in  a  child's  soul  that  any  opinion 
is  better  than  truth. 

The  entire  helplessness  of  children,  for  a  long 
period  after  birth,  is  another  circumstance  not 
within  our  control,  and  one  deserving  of  great 
moral  consideration.  In  one  respect,  children 
may  be  said  to  possess  their  greatest  power,  at 
this,  the  feeblest  period  of  their  existence; — a 
power  which, — however  paradoxical  it  may  seem, 
— originates  in  helplessness,  and  therefore  dimin- 
ishes just  in  proportion  as  they  gain  strength.  It 
was  most  beautifully  said  by  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown,  that  after  a  child  has  grown  to  manhood, 


176 

"he  cannot,  even  then,  by  the  most  impenons 
orders,  which  he  addresses  to  the  most  obsequious 
slaves,  exercise  an  authority  more  commanding 
than  that,  which,  in  the  very  first  hours  of  his 
hfe,  when  a  few  indistinct  cries  and  tears  were 
his  only  language,  he  exercised  irresistibly  over 
hearts,  of  the  very  existence  of  which  he  was 
ignorant."  It  may  be  added  that,  under  no  terror 
of  a  despot's  rage;  under  no  bribe  of  honors  or 
of  wealth;  under  no  fear  of  torture  or  of  death, 
have  greater  struggles  been  made,  or  greater  sacri- 
fices endured,  than  for  those  helpless  creatures, 
who,  for  all  purposes  of  immediate  availability, 
are  so  utterly  worthless.  All,  unless  it  be  the 
lowest  savages,  fly  to  the  succor,  and  melt  at  the 
sufferings  of  infancy.  God  has  so  adapted  their 
unconscious  pleadings  to  our  uncontrollable  im- 
pulses, that  they,  in  their  weakness,  have  the 
prerogative  of  command,  and  we,  in  our  strength, 
the  instinct  of  obedience.  It  was  the  highest 
wisdom,  then,  not  to  intrust  the  fate  of  infancy 
to  any  volitions  or  notions  of  expediency,  on  our 
part ;  but,  at  once,  by  a  sovereign  law  of  the 
constitution,  to  make  our  knowledge  and  power 
submissive  to  their  inarticulate  commands. 

In  proportion  as  this  power  of  helplessness 
wanes,  the  child  begins  to  excite  our  interest  and 
sympathy,  by  a  thousand  personal  attractions  and 
forms  of  loveliness.  The  sweetness  of  lips  that 
never  told  a  lie ;  the  smile  that  celebrates  the  first- 
born emotions  of  love ;  the  intense  gaze  at  bright 
colors  and  striking  forms,  gathering  together 
the  elements  from  whose  full  splendor  and  gor- 
geousness,  Raphael  painted  and  Homer  wrote  ; 
the  plastic  imagination,  fusing  the  solid  sub- 
stances of  the  earth,  to  be  re-cast  into  shapes  of 
beauty  ; — what  Rothschild,  what  Croesus  has 
wealth  that  can  purchase  these  ! 

How  cheap  and  how  beautiful,  too,  are  the  joys 


177 

of  childhood !  Paley,  in  speaking  of  the  evi- 
dences of  the  goodness  of  God,  says,  there  is 
always  some  ''  bright  spot  in  the  prospect ;" — 
some  "single  example,''  "by  which  each  man 
finds  himself  more  convinced  than* by  all  others 
put  together.  I  seem,  for  my  own  part,"  he  adds, 
"  to  see  the  benevolence  of  the  Deity  more  clearly 
in  the  pleasures  of  young  children,  than  in  any 
thing  in  the  world.  The  pleasures  of  grown 
persons  may  be  reckoned  partly  of  their  own  pro- 
curing, especially  if  there  has  been  any  industry, 
or  contrivance,  or  pursuit  to  come  at  them ;  or,  if 
they  are  founded,  like  music,  painting,  &/C.,  upon 
any  qualifications  of  their  own  acquiring.  But 
the  pleasures  of  a  healthy  infant,  are  so  mani- 
festly provided  for  it  by  another,  and  the  benev- 
olence of  the  provision  is  so  unquestionable,  that 
every  child  I  see  at  its  sport,  affords  to  my  mind, 
a  kind  of  sensible  evidence  of  the  finger  of  God, 
and  of  the  disposition  which  directs  it."  At  the 
age  of  two  or  three  years,  before  a  child  has  ever 
seen  a  jest-book,  whence  comes  his  glad  and  glad- 
dening laughter, — at  once  costless  and  priceless? 
Whence  comes  that  flow  of  joy,  that  gurgles  and 
gushes  up  from  his  heart,  like  water  flung  from  a 
spouting-spring  ?  That  bright-haired  boy,  how 
came  he  as  full  of  music  and  poetry  as  a  singing- 
book  1  Who  imprisoned  a  dancing-school  in  each 
of  his  toes,  which  sends  him  from  the  earth  with 
bounding  and  rebounding  step  1  What  an  iEolian 
harp  the  wind  finds  in  him  !  Nor  music  alone, 
does  it  awaken  in  his  bosom ;  for,  let  but  its 
feathery  touch  play  upon  his  locks,  or  fan  his 
cheek,  and  gravitation  lets  go  of  him, — he  floats 
and  sails  away,  as  though  his  body  were  a  feather 
and  his  soul  the  zephyr  that  played  with  it.  In- 
deed, half  his  discords  come,  because  the  winds, 
the  buds,  the  flowers,  the  light, — so  many  fingers 
of  the  hand  of  nature, — are  all  striving  to  play 


ITS 

different  tunes  upon  him,  at  the  same  time.  Thes3 
dehghts  are  born  of  the  exquisite  workmanship 
of  the  Creator,  before  the  ignorance  and  wicked- 
ness of  men  have  had  time  to  mar  it; — and  they 
flow  out  spontaneously  and  unconsciously,  hke  a 
bird's  song,  or  a  flower's  beauty. 

Even  to  those  who  have  no  children  of  their 
own, — unless  they  are,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it, 
"without  natural  affection," — even  to  those,  the 
wonderful  growth  of  a  child,  in  knowledge,  in 
power,  in  affection,  makes  all  other  wonders  tame. 
Who  ever  saw  a  wretch  so  heathenish,  so  dead, 
that  the  merry  song  or  shout  of  a  group  of  gleeful 
children,  did  not  galvanize  the  misanthrope  into 
an  exclamation  of  joy  7  What  orator  or  poet  has 
eloquence  that  enters  the  soul  with  such  quick 
and  subtle  electricity,  as  a  child's  tear  of  pity  for 
suffering,  or  his  frown  of  indignation  at  wrong? 
A  child  is  so  much  more  than  a  miracle  that  its 
growth  and  future  blessedness  are  the  only  things 
worth  working  miracles  for.  God  did  not  make 
the  child  for  the  sake  of  the  earth,  nor  for  the 
sake  of  the  sun ;  but  he  made  the  earth  and  the 
sun,  as  a  footstool  and  a  lamp,  to  sustain  his  steps 
and  to  enlighten  his  path,  during  a  few  only  of 
the  earliest  years  of  his  immortal  existence. 

You  perceive,  my  friends,  that  in  speaking  of 
the  loveliness  of  children,  and  their  power  to  cap- 
tivate and  subdue  all  hearts  to  a  willing  bondage, 
I  have  used  none  but  masculine  pronouns, — re- 
ferring only  to  the  stronger  and  hardier  sex ; — for, 
by  what  glow  and  melody  of  speech,  can  I  sketch 
the  vision  of  a  young  and  beautiful  daughter, 
with  all  her  bewildering  enchantments?  By 
what  cunning  art  can  the  coarse  material  of 
words  be  refined  and  subtilized  into  color,  and 
motion,  and  music,  till  they  shall  paint  her  bloom 
of  health,  "celestial,  rosy  red;"  till  they  shall 
trace  those  motions  that  have  the  grace  and  the 


179 

freedom  of  flame,  and  echo  the  sweet  and  affec- 
tionate tones  of  a  spirit,  yet  warm  from  the  hand 
that  created  it?  What  less  than  a  divine  power 
could  have  strung  the  living  chords  of  her  voice 
to  pour  out  unbidden  and  exulting  harmonies'? 
What  fount  of  sacred  flame  kindles  and  feeds  the 
light  that  gleams  from  the  pure  depths  of  her  eye, 
and  flushes  her  cheek  with  the  hues  of  a  per- 
petual morning,  and  shoots  auroras  from  her 
beaming  foreliead  7  O!  profane  not  this  last 
miracle  of  heavenly  workmanship  with  sight  or 
sound  of  earthly  impurity.  Keep  vestal  vigils 
around  her  inborn  modesty ;  and  let  the  quickest 
lightnings  blast  her  tempter.  She  is  Nature's 
mosaic  of  charms.  Looked  upon  as  we  look 
upon  an  object  in  Natural  History, — upon  a 
gazelle  or  a  hyacinth, — she  is  a  magnet  to  draw 
pain  out  of  a  wounded  breast.  While  we  gaze 
upon  her,  and  press  her  in  ecstasy  to  our  bosom, 
we  almost  tremble,  lest  suddenly  she  should  un- 
furl a  wing  and  soar  to  some  better  world.  But, 
my  friends,  with  what  emotions  ought  we  to 
tremble,  when  our  thoughts  pass  from  the  present 
to  the  future, — when  we  ponder  on  the  possi- 
bilities of  evil  as  well  as  of  good,  which  now,  all 
unconsciously  to  herself,  lie  hidden  in  her  spirit's 
coming  history, — now  hidden,  but  to  be  revealed 
soon  as  her  tiny  form  shall  have  expanded  to  the 
stature,  and  her  spirit  to  the  power  of  womanhood? 
When  we  reflect,  on  the  one  hand,  that  this  object, 
almost  of  our  idolatry,  may  go  through  life,  solac- 
ing distress,  ministering  to  want,  redeeming  from 
guilt,  making  vice  mourn  the  blessedness  it  has 
lost  because  it  was  not  virtue ;  and,  as  she  walks, 
holy  and  immaculate  before  God  and  before  men, 
some  aerial  anthem  shall  seem  to  be  forever 
hymning  peaceful  benedictions  around  her;  or, 
on  the  other  hand,  that,  from  the  dark  fountains 
of  a  corrupted  heart,  she  shall  send  forth  a  secret^ 


180 

subtle  poison,  compared  with  which  all  earthly 
venoms  are  healthful ; — when  we  reflect  that,  so 
soon,  she  may  become  one  or  the  other  of  all  this^ 
the  pen  falls,  the  tongue  falters  and  fails,  while 
the  hopeful,  fearful  heart  rushes  from  thanks- 
giving to  prayer,  and  from  prayer  to  thanksgiv 
ing. 

But  the  most  striking  and  wonderful  provision 
which  is  made,  in  the  accustomed  course  of 
nature  and  providence,  for  the  welfare  of  children ^ 
remains  to  be  mentioned.  Reflect,  for  a  moment, 
my  friends,  how  it  has  come  to  pass,  that  the 
successive  generations  of  children,  from  Adam  to 
ourselves, — each  one  of  which  was  wholly  inca- 
pable of  providing  for  itself  for  a  single  day, — 
how  has  it  come  to  pass,  that  these  successive 
generations  have  been  regularly  sustained  and 
continued  to  the  present  day,  without  intermission 
or  failure  ?  The  Creator  did  not  leave  these  ever- 
returning  exigencies  without  adequate  provision ; 
— for,  how  universal  and  how  strong  is  the  love 
of  offspring  in  the  parental  breast !  This  love  is 
the  grand  resource, — the  complement  of  all  other 
forces.  We  are  accustomed  to  call  the  right  of 
self-preservation,  the  first  law  of  nature;  yet,  how 
this  love  of  offspring  overrules  and  spurns  it. 
To  rescue  her  child,  the  mother  breaks  through  a 
wall  of  fire,  or  plunges  into  the  fathomless  flood  ; 
— or,  if  it  must  be  consumed  in  the  flames,  or  lie 
down  in  the  deep,  she  clasps  it  to  her  bosom  and 
perishes  with  it.  This  maternal  impulse  does  not 
so  much  subjugate  self,  as  forget  that  there  is  any 
such  thing  as  self;  and,  were  the  mother  pos- 
sessed of  a  thousand  lives,  for  the  welfare  of  her 
offspring  she  would  squander  them  all.  Mourn- 
ing, disconsolate  mothers,  bewailing  lost  children! 
Behold  the  vast  procession,  which  reaches  from 
the  earliest  periods  of  the  race  to  those  who  now 
stand  bending  and  weeping  over  the  diminutive 


131 

graves  which  swallow  up  their  hopes ;  and  what 
a  mighty  attestation  do  they  give  to  the  strength 
of  that  instinct  which  God  has  implanted  in  the 
maternal  breast.  Nor  is  it  in  the  human  race  only 
that  this  love  of  offspring  bears  sway.  All  the 
higher  orders  of  animated  nature  are  subjected  to 
its  control.  It  inspires  the  most  timid  races  of  the 
brnte  creation  with  boldness,  and  melts  the  most 
ferocious  of  them  into  love.  To  express  its  strength 
and  watchfulness,  the  hare  is  said  to  sleep  with 
ever-open  eye  on  the  form  where  her  young  re- 
pose; and  the  pelican  to  tear  open  her  breast  with 
iier  own  beak,  and  pour  out  her  life-blood  to  feed 
her  nesthngs.  The  famishing  eagle  grasps  her  prey 
in  her  talons  and  carries  it  to  her  lofty  nest;  and 
though  she  screams  with  hunger,  yet  she  will 
not  taste  it  until  her  young  are  satisfied  ;  and  the 
gaunt  lioness  bears  the  spoils  of  the  forest  to  her 
cavern,  nor  quenches  the  fire  of  her  own  parched 
lips  until  her  whelps  have  feasted.  And  thus, 
from  the  parent  stock, — from  the  Adam  and  Eve, 
whether  of  animals  or  of  men,  who  came  into  life 
full-formed  from  the  hands  of  their  Creator, — down 
through  all  successive  generations,  to  the  present 
dwellers  upon  earth,  has  this  invisible  but  mighty 
instinct  of  the  parents'  heart,  brooded,  and  held  its 
jealous  watch  over  their  young,  nurturing  their 
weakness  and  instructing  their  ignorance,  until 
the  day  of  their  maturity,  when  it  became  their 
turn  to  reaffirm  this  great  law  of  nature  towards 
their  ofl!*spring. 

This,  my  friends,  is  not  sentimentality.  It  is 
the  contemplation  of  one  of  the  divinest  features 
in  the  Economy  of  Providence.  It  was  for  the 
wisest  ends  that  thB  Creator  ordained,  that  as 
the  offspring  of  each,  "after  its  kind,"  vshould  be 
brought  into  life, — then,  in  that  self-same  hour, 
without  volition  or  forethought  on  their  part, — 
there  should  flame  up  in  the  breast  of  the  parent, 
16 


1^ 

as  from  the  innermost  recesses  of  nature,  a  new 
and  overmastering  impulse, — an  impulse  which 
enters  the  soul  like  a  strong  invader,  conquering, 
revolutionizing,  transforming  old  pains  into  pleas- 
ures and  old  pleasures  into  pains,  until  its  great 
mission  should  be  accomplished.  On  this  link  the 
very  existence  of  the  races  was  suspended.  Hence 
Divine  foreknowledge  made  it  strong  enough  to 
sustain  them  all ; — for,  in  vain  would  the  fountain 
of  life  have  been  opened  in  the  maternal  breast,  if 
a  deeper  fountain  of  love  had  not  been  opened  in 
her  heart. 

Would  you  more  adequately  conceive  what  an 
insupportable  wretchedness  and  torment  the  rear- 
ing of  children  would  be,  if,  instead  of  being  ren- 
dered delightful  by  these  endearments  of  parental 
love,  it  had  been  merely  commanded  by  law,  and 
enforced  by  pains  and  penalties; — would  you,  I 
say,  more  fully  conceive  this  difference ; — contrast 
the  feelings  of  a  slave-breeder,  (a  wretch  abhorred 
by  God  and  man  !)  contrast,  I  say,  the  feelings  of 
a  slave-breeder,  who  raises  children  for  the  market, 
with  the  feelings  of  the  slave-mother,  in  whose 
person  this  sacred  law  of  parental  love  is  outraged. 
If  one  of  these  doomed  children,  from  what  cause 
soever,  becomes  puny  and  sickly,  and  gives  good 
promise  of  defeating  the  cupidity  that  called  it 
into  life,  with  what  bitter  emotions  does  the  mas- 
ter behold  it !  He  thinks  of  investments  sunk,  of 
unmerchantable  stock  on  hand,  of  the  profit  and 
loss  account ;  and  perhaps  he  is  secretly  meditating 
schemes  for  preventing  further  expenditures  by 
bringing  the  hopeless  concern  to  a  violent  close. 
But  what  an  inexpressible  joy  does  the  abused 
mother  find  in  watching  over  and  caressing  it,  and 
cheating  the  hostile  hours  ; — and,  (for  such  is  the 
impartiality  of  nature,)  if  she  can  beguile  it  of  one 
pain,  or  win  one  note  of  gladness  from  its  sorrow- 
stricken  frame,  her  dusky  bosom  thrills  with  as 


183 

keen  a  rapture  as  ever  dilated  the  breast  of  a  royal 
mother,  when,  beneath  a  canopy  and  within  cur- 
tains of  silk  and  gold,  she  nursed  the  heir  of  a 
hundred  kings. 

In  civilized  and  christianized  man,  this  natural 
instinct  is  exalted  into  a  holy  sentiment.  At  first, 
it  is  true,  there  springs  up  this  blind  passion  of 
parental  love,  yearning  for  the  good  of  the  child, 
delighted  by  its  pleasures,  tortured  by  its  pains. 
But  this  vehement  impulse,  strong  as  it  is,  is  not 
left  to  do  its  work  alone.  It  summons  and  sup- 
plicates all  the  nobler  faculties  of  the  soul  to  be- 
come its  counsellors  and  allies.  It  invokes  the  aid 
of  conscience ;  and  consciepce  urges  to  do  all  and 
suffer  all,  for  the  child's  welfare.  For  every  de- 
fault, conscience  expostulates,  rebukes,  mourns, 
threatens,  chastises.  That  is  selfishness,  and  not 
conscience,  in  the  parent,  which  says  to  the  child, 
''  You  owe  your  being  and  your  capacities  to  me." 
Conscience  makes  the  parent  say,  "  I  owe  my 
being  and  my  capacities  to  you.  It  is  I  who  have 
struck  out  a  spark  which  is  to  burn  with  celestial 
effulgence,  or  glare  with  baleful  fires.  It  is  I,  who 
have  evoked  out  of  nothingness,  unknown  and 
incalculable  capacities  of  happiness  and  of  misery; 
and  all  that  can  be  done  by  mortal  means  is  mine 
to  do." 

Nor  does  this  love  of  offspring  stop  with  con- 
science. It  enlists,  in  its  behalf,  the  general  feel- 
ing of  benevolence, — benevolence,  that  godlike 
sentiment  which  rejoices  in  the  joys  and  suffers  in 
the  sufferings  of  others.  The  soul  of  the  truly 
benevolent  man  does  not  seem  to  reside  much  in 
its  own  body.  Its  life,  to  a  great  extent,  is  the 
mere  reflex  of  the  lives  of  others.  It  migrates  into 
their  bodies,  and,  identifying  its  existence  with 
their  existence,  finds  its  own  happiness  in  increas- 
ing and  prolonging  their  pleasures,  in  extinguish- 
ing or  solacing  their  pains.     And  of  all  places  into 


184 

which  the  whole  heart  of  benevolence  ever  mi- 
grates, it  is  in  the  child,  where  it  finds  the  readiest 
welcome,  and  where  it  loves  best  to  prolong  its 
residence. 

So  the  voice  of  another  sentiment, — a  sentiment 
whose  commands  are  more  authoritative  than 
those  of  any  other  which  ever  startles  the  slumber- 
ing faculties  from  their  guilty  repose, — I  mean  the 
religious  sentiment,  the  sense  of  duty  to  God, — 
this,  too,  comes  in  aid  of  the  parental  affection ; 
and  it  appeals  to  the  whole  nature,  in  language 
awful  as  that  which  made  the  camp  of  the  Israel- 
ites tremble,  at  the  foot  of  Sinai.  This  sense  of 
duty  to  God  compels  the  parent  to  contemplate  the 
child  iu  his  moral  and  religious  relations.  It  says, 
"  However  different  you  may  now  be  from  your 
child, — you  strong,  and  he  weak;  you  learned,  and 
he  ignorant ;  your  mind  capacious  of  the  mighty 
events  of  the  past  and  the  future,  and  he  alike 
ignorant  of  yesterday  and  to-morrow, — yet,  in  a 
few  short  years,  all  this  difference  will  be  lost,  and 
one  of  the  greatest  remaining  differences  between 
yourself  and  him,  will  be  that  which  your  own 
conduct  towards  him  shall  have  caused  or  per- 
mitted. If,  then,  God  is  Truth, — if  God  is  Love, — 
teach  the  child  above  all  things  to  seek  for  Truth, 
and  to  abound  in  liOve." 

So  much,  then,  my  friends,  is  done,  in  the  com- 
mon and  established  course  of  nature,  for  the  wel- 
fare of  our  children.  Nature  supplies  a  perennial 
force,  unexhausted,  inexhaustible,  reappearing 
whenever  and  wherever  the  parental  relation 
exists.  We,  then,  who  are  engaged  in  the  sacred 
cause  of  education,  are  entitled  to  look  upon  all 
parents  as  having  given  hostages  to  our  cause ; 
and,  just  as  soon  as  we  can  make  them  see  the 
true  relation  in  which  they  and  their  children 
stand  to  this  cause,  they  will  become  advocates 
for  its  advancement,  more  ardent  and  devoted  than 


185 

ourselves.  We  hold  every  parent  by  a  bond  more 
strong  and  faithful  than  promises  or  oaths, — by  a 
Heaven-established  relationship,  which  no  power 
on  earth  can  dissolve.  Would  parents  furnish  us 
with  a  record  of  their  secret  consciousness,  how 
large  a  portion  of  those  solemn  thoughts  and  emo- 
tions, which  throng  the  mind  in  the  solitude  of 
the  night  watches,  and  fill  up  their  hours  of  anx- 
ious contemplation,  would  be  found  to  relate  to 
the  welfare  of  their  offspring.  Doubtless  the  main 
part  of  their  most  precious  joys  comes  from  the 
present  or  prospective  well-being  of  their  children ; 
— and  oh  !  how  often  would  they  account  all  gold 
as  dross,  and  fame  as  vanity,  and  life  as  nothing, 
could  they  bring  back  the  look  of  the  cradle's 
innocence  upon  the  coffined  reprobate  ! 

With  some  parents,  of  course,  these  pleasures 
and  pains  constitute  a  far  greater  share  of  the  good 
or  ill  of  life  than  with  others ; — and  with  mothers 
generally  far  more  than  with  fathers.  We  have 
the  evidence  of  this  superior  attachment  of  the 
mother,  in  those  supernatural  energies  which  she 
will  put  forth  to  rescue  her  child  from  danger;  we 
know  it  by  the  vigils  and  fasting  she  will  endure 
to  save  it  from  the  pangs  of  sickness,  or  to  ward 
off  the  shafts  of  death ; — when,  amid  all  the  allure- 
ments of  the  world,  her  eye  is  fastened,  and  her 
heart  dwells  upon  but  one  spot  in  it;  we  know 
it  by  her  agonies,  when,  at  last,  she  consigns  her 
child  to  an  early  grave ;  we  know  it  by  the  tear 
which  fills  her  eye,  when,  after  the  lapse  of  years, 
some  stranger  repeats,  by  chance,  its  beloved  name; 
and  we  know  it  by  the  crash  and  ruin  of  the  in- 
tellect sometimes  produced  by  the  blow  of  bereave- 
ment;— all  these  are  signatures  written  by  the 
finger  of  God  upon  human  nature  itself,  by  which 
we  know  that  parents  are  constituted  and  predes- 
tined to  be  the  friends  of  education.  They  will, 
they  must  be  its  friends,  as  soon  as  increasing 
16* 


ISO 

intelligence  shall  have  demonstrated  to  them  the 
indissoluble  relation  which  exists  between  Educa- 
tion and  Happiness. 

I  have  now  spoken,  my  friends,  of  what  is  done 
for  us,  in  the  accustomed  course  of  nature  and 
providence,  as  it  regards  the  well-being  of  our 
children.  But  here  I  come  to  the  point  of  diver- 
gence. Here  I  must  speak  of  our  part  of  the  work ; 
of  those  duties  which  the  Creator  has  devolved 
upon  ourselves.  Here,  therefore,  it  becomes  my 
duty  to  expose  the  greatest  of  all  mistakes,  com- 
mitted in  regard  to  the  greatest  of  all  subjects, 
and  followed  by  proportionate  calamities. 

Two  grand  quaUfications  are  equally  necessary 
in  the  education  of  children, — Love  and  Knowl- 
edge. Without  love,  every  child  would  be  re- 
garded as  a  nuisance,  and  cast  away  as  soon  as 
born.  Without  knowledge,  love  will  ruin  every 
child.  Nature  supplies  the  love ;  but  she  does 
not  supply  the  knowledge.  The  love  is  spon- 
taneous ;  the  knowledge  is  to  be  acquired  by 
study  and  toil,  by  the  most  attentive  observation 
and  the  profoundest  reflection.  Here,  then,  lies 
the  fatal  error: — parents  rest  contented  with  the 
feeling  of  love;  they  do  not  devote  themselves  to 
the  acquisition  of  that  knowledge  which  is  neces- 
sary to  guide  it.  Year  after  year,  thousands  and 
tens  of  thousands  indulge  the  delightful  senti- 
ment, but  never  spend  an  hour  in  studying  the 
conditions  which  are  indispensable  to  its  gratifi- 
cation. 

In  regard  to  the  child's  physical  condition, — its 
growth,  and  health,  and  length  of  life, — these  de- 
pend, in  no  inconsiderable  degree,  on  the  health 
and  self-treatment  of  the  mother  before  its  birth. 
After  birth,  they  depend  not  only  on  the  vitality  and 
temperature  of  the  air  it  breathes,  on  dress,  and  diet, 
and  exercise,  but  on  certain  proportions  and  rela- 


tions  which  these  objects  bear  to  each  other.  Now 
the  tenderest  parental  love, — a  love  which  burns, 
like  incense  upon  an  altar,  for  an  idolized  child,  for 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  or  for  half  a  century, — will 
never  teach  the  mother  that  there  are  different  in- 
gredients in  the  air  we  breathe, — that  one  of  them 
sustains  life,  that  another  of  them  destroys  life, 
— that  every  breath  we  draw  changes  the  life-sus- 
taining element  into  the  life-destroying  one ;  and 
therefore  that  the  air  which  is  to  be  respired  must 
be  perpetually  renewed.  Love  will  never  instruct 
the  mother  what  materials  or  textures  of  clothing 
have  the  proper  conducting  or  non-conducting 
qualities  for  different  climates,  or  for  different  sea- 
sons of  the  year.  Love  is  no  chemist  or  physi- 
ologist, and  therefore  will  never  impart  to  the 
mother  any  knowledge  of  the  chemical  or  vital 
qualities  of  different  kinds  of  food,  of  the  nature 
or  functions  of  the  digestive  organs,  of  the  suscep- 
tibilities of  the  nervous  system,  nor,  indeed,  of  any 
other  of  the  various  functions  on  which  health 
and  life  depend.  Hence,  the  most  affectionate 
but  ignorant  mother,  during  the  cold  nights  of 
winter,  will  visit  the  closet-like  bed-chamber  of 
her  darling,  calk  up  every  crevice  and  cranny, 
smother  him  with  as  many  integuments  as  encase 
an  Egyptian  mummy,  close  the  door  of  his  apart- 
ment, and  thus  inflict  upon  him  a  consumption, 
— ^born  of  love.  Or  she  will  wrap  nice  comfort- 
ers about  his  neck,  until,  in  some  glow  of  perspi- 
ration, he  flings  them  off,  and  dies  of  the  croup. 
Or  she  will  consult  the  infinite  desires  of  a  child's 
appetite,  instead  of  the  finite  powers  of  his  stom- 
ach, and  thus  pamper  him,  until  he  languishes 
into  a  life  of  suffering  and  imbecility,  or  becomes 
stupefied  and  besotted  by  one  of  sensual  indul- 
gence. 

A  mother  has  a  first-born  child,  whom  she  dotes 
upon  to  distraction,  but,  through  some  fatal  error 


ISS 

in  its  management  J  occasioned  by  her  ignorance, 
it  dies  in  the  first,  beautiful,  budding  hour  of 
childhood, — nipped  like  the  sweet  blossoms  of 
spring  by  an  untimely  frost.  Another  is  com- 
mitted to  her  charge,  and  in  her  secret  heart  she 
says,  "I  will  love  this  better  than  the  first."  But 
it  is  not  better  love  that  the  child  needs;  it  is 
more  knowledge. 

It  is  the  vast  field  of  ignorance  pertaining  to 
these  subjects,  in  which  quackery  thrives  and  fat- 
tens. No  one  who  knows  any  thing  of  the  organs 
and  functions  of  the  human  system,  and  of  the 
properties  of  those  objects  in  nature  to  which 
that  system  is  related,  can  hear  a  quack  descant 
upon  the  miraculous  virtues  of  his  nostrums,  or 
can  read  his  advertisements  in  the  newspapers, — 
wherein,  fraudulently  towards  man,  and  impiously 
towards  God,  he  promises  to  sell  an  ''  Elixir  of 
Life,"  or  ''The  Balm  of  Immortality,"  or  ''  Resur- 
rection Pills," — without  contempt  for  his  ignorance, 
or  detestation  of  his  guilt.  Could  the  quack  ad- 
minister his  nostrums  to  the  great  enemy.  Death, 
then,  indeed,  we  might  expect  to  live  forever. 

And  what  is  the  consequence  of  this  excess  of 
love  and  lack  of  knowledge  on  the  part  of  the  pa- 
rent 7  More  than  one  fifth  part, — almost  a  fourth 
part, — of  all  the  children  who  are  born,  die  before 
attaining  the  age  of  one  year.  A  fifth  part  have 
died  before  a  seventieth  part  of  the  term  of  exist- 
ence has  been  reached  !  What  would  the  farmer 
or  the  shepherd  say,  if  he  should  lose  one  fifth 
part  of  his  lambs  or  his  kids,  before  a  seventieth 
part  of  their  natural  term  of  life  had  been  reached  ! 
And  before  the  age  of  five  years,  more  than  a  third 
part  of  all  who  are  born  of  our  race,  have  returned 
again  to  the  earth, — the  great  majority  of  them 
having  died  of  that  most  fatal  and  wide-spread  of 
all  epidemics, — unenlightened  parental  love.  What 
an  inconceivable  amount  of  anxiety  for  the  health 


189 

and  life  of  children  might  be  prevented;  how  much 
of  the  agony  of  bereavement  might  be  saved ;  how 
much  joy  might  be  won  from  beholding  child- 
hood's rosy  beauty  and  bounding  health,  if  pa- 
rents, especially  mothers,  would  study  such  works 
as  those  of  Doctor  Combe,  on  the  Principles  of 
Physiology,  as  applied  to  Health  and  Education, 
and  on  Digestion  and  Dietetics ;  of  Doctor  Brig- 
ham,  on  Mental  Excitement ;  or  Miss  Sedgwick's 
Means  and  Ends ;  and,  (if  they  are  to  stand  at  all 
in  the  way  of  mastering  this  knowledge,)  throw 
Cooper,  and  Bulwer,  and  Maryatt,  and  Boz,  into 
the  grate,  or  under  the  fore-stick. 

When  we  ascend  from  the  management  of  the 
body  to  the  direction  and  culture  of  the  intellectual 
and  moral  nature,  the  calamitous  consequences 
of  ignorance  are  as  much  greater,  as  spirit  is 
more  valuable  than  matter, — because  the  mischief 
wrought  by  unskilfulness  is  always  in  proportion 
to  the  value  of  the  material  wrought  upon.  In 
regard  to  the  child's  advancement  in  knowledge 
and  virtue,  with  what  spontaneity  and  vigor  do 
the  parental  impulses  spring  up  !  They  seek, 
they  yearn,  they  pray  for  his  welfare,  for  his 
worldly  renown,  for  his  moral  excellence, — that 
he  may  grow,  not  only  in  stature,  but  in  favor 
with  God  and  man.  These  parental  affections 
watch  over  him ;  they  stand  like  an  angelic  guard 
around  him  ;  they  agonize  for  his  growth  in  the 
right,  for  his  redemption  from  the  wrong.  But 
all  these  affections  are  blind  impulses.  They  do 
not  know,  they  cannot  devise  a  single  measure, 
whereby  to  accomplish  the  object  they  would  die 
to  attain.  Love  of  children  has  no  knowledge  of 
the  four  different  temperaments, — the  fibrous,  the 
sanguine,  the  nervous,  the  lymphatic, — or  of  the 
different  combinations  of  them,  and  how  different 
a  course  of  treatment  each  one  of  them,  or  the 
predominance  of  either,  demands.     Love  of  chil- 


193 

dreii  does  not  know  how  to  command,  in  order  to 
insure  the  habit  of  prompt  and  willing  obedience, 
— obedience,  in  the  first  place,  to  parental  author- 
ity, afterwards  to  the  dictates  of  conscience  when 
that  faculty  is  developed,  and  to  the  laws  of  God 
when  those  laws  are  made  known  to  them.  Love 
of  children  does  not  know  in  what  manner,  or  in 
what  measure,  to  inflict  punishment ;  or  how  to 
reconcile  inflexibility  of  principle  with  changes 
in  circumstances.  It  does  not  understand  the 
favorable  moments  when  the  mind  is  fitted  to 
receive  the  seeds  of  generous,  noble,  devout  sen- 
timents; or  when,  on  the  other  hand,  not  even 
the  holiest  principles  should  be  mentioned.  All 
this  invaluable,  indispensable  knowledge  comes 
from  reading,  from  study,  from  observation,  from 
reflection,  from  forethought ; — it  never  comes,  it 
never  can  come,  from  the  blind  instinct  or  feeling 
of  parental  love.  Hence,  as  we  all  know,  those 
parents  do  not  train  up  their  children  best  who 
love  them  most.  Nay,  if  the  love  be  not  accom- 
panied with  knowledge,  it  precipitates  the  ruin  of 
its  object.  This  result  can  be  explained  in  a  sin- 
gle word.  The  child  has  appetites  and  desires, 
without  knowledge.  These,  if  unrestrained,  all 
tend  to  excess.  They  demand  too  much  of  food, 
dress,  liberty,  authority,  and  so  forth.  The  child 
has  a  throng  of  selfish  propensities,  which,  if 
unbalanced  by  the  higher  sentiments,  prompt  to 
acts  of  disrespect,  pride,  cruelty,'  injustice.  Now 
the  dictate  of  unintelligent  love  in  the  parent  is, 
to  assist  the  child  in  realizing  all  its  wants. 
Hence  the  parent's  power  supplies  the  child's 
weakness  in  procuring  the  means  for  gratifying 
its  excessive  desires ;  and  thus,  that  love  which 
nature  designed  as  its  blessing,  becomes  its  curse. 
What  intelligent  observer  has  not  seen  many  a 
parent  run,  at  the  first  call  of  a  child,  remove  all 
obstructions  from  his  path,  and  hasten  his  slow 
steps  onward  to  ruin  ! 


191 

Solomon  says, — explicitly  and  without  qualifi- 
cation,— '"  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should 
go,  and  when  he  is  old,  he  will  not  depart  from 
IT."  Now,  if  this  be  true,  then  it  is  a  short  and 
a  clear  syllogism,  that  if  men  do  depart  from  the 
way  in  which  they  should  go,  they  were  not,  as 
children^  trained  up  in  it.  Or,  take  the  saying 
only  as  a  general  proposition, — one  to  be  applied 
to  the  great  majority  of  cases, — and  it  equally 
follows  that  if  men,  generally^  do  depart  from  the 
way  in  which  they  should  go,  then,  generally^  they 
were  not  trained  up  in  it.  LFnder  the  loosest  con- 
struction, Solomon  must  have  meant,  that  there 
are  powers,  faculties,  instrumentalities,  graciously 
vouchsafed  by  Heaven  to  man,  by  which,  if  dis- 
covered, and  applied  to  the  processes  of  education, 
children,  generally,  when  they  become  men,  Avill 
go  and  do,  and  love  to  go  and  do,  as  they  ought 
to  go  and  do.  No  latitudinarianism  of  interpre- 
tation can  escape  this  inferente. 

And  yet,  with  this  authority  from  the  Scrip- 
tures before  us,  as  to  what  may  be  done,  how 
often  does  the  misconduct  of  children  bring  down 
the  gray  hairs  of  parents  with  sorrow  to  the  grave. 
With  every  generation,  there  reappear  amongst 
us,  the  arts  of  fraud,  the  hand  of  violence,  and  the 
feet  that  are  swift  to  shed  blood.  Nor  are  flagi- 
tious deeds  and  abandoned  lives  confined  to 
families  alone,  where  the  treatment  of  children, 
by  their  parents,  is  characterized  by  gross  ig- 
norance and  heathenism.  Such  cases,  it  is  true, 
abound,  and  in  such  numbers,  too,  as  almost  to 
laugh  to  scorn  our  claims,  as  a  people,  to  civil- 
ization and  Christianity.  But  how  often  do  we 
see  children  issuing  from  the  abodes  of  rational 
and  pious  parents,  where  a  burning  love,  a  hal- 
lowed zeal,  a  life-consuming  toil,  have  been  ex- 
pended upon  them, — of  parents  who  have  bedew- 
ed the  nightly  pillow  with  tears,  and,  morning 


192 

and  evening,  have  wrestled  with  the  angel  of 
mercy  to  bring  down  blessings  upon  their  heads, 
— how  often  do  we  see  these  children  bursting 
madly  forth,  and  rushing  straight  onward  to  some 
precipice  of  destruction;  and  though  parents  and 
kindred  and  friends  pursue,  and  strive  to  inter- 
cept them  ere  they  reach  the  brink  of  ruin ;  and 
gather  in  long  array  and  stand  with  outstretched 
arms  and  imploring  voice,  to  arrest  their  fatal 
career, — yet,  gathering  strength  and  swiftness, 
the  victims  rush  by,  and  plunge  into  the  abyss  of 
perdition.  Yet,  if  there  is  any  truth  in  the 
declaration  of  Solomon^,  these  victims, — at  least 
most  of  them, — might  have  been  saved,  and  would 
have  been  saved,  had  the  knowledge  of  the 
parents  been  equal  to  their  love.  God  grant  that 
in  saying  these  things,  I  may  not  shoot  an  arrow 
of  pain  through  any  parent's  heart; — still  more 
fervently  do  I  say,  God  grant  that  a  timely  con- 
sideration of  these  truths  may  turn  aside  the 
arrows  of  pain  from  every  parental  breast ! 

The  instinctive  love  which  parents  feel  for 
their  children  is  only  one  of  a  large  class  of  natu- 
ral desires, — all  of  which  are  subjected  to  the 
same  conditions.  Nature,  in  each  case,  supplies 
the  desire,  but  she  leaves  it  to  us  to  acquire  the 
knowledge  which  is  necessary  to  guide  it.  She 
leaves  it  to  us  so  to  control  and  regulate  the  desire, 
that,  in  the  long-run,  it  may  receive  the  highest 
amount  of  gratification.  This  truth  is  susceptible 
of  most  extensive  illustration.  Time,  however, 
will  allow  me  to  adduce  only  a  few  analogies. 

All  men  are  born  with  a  desire  for  food,  but 
they  are  born  without  any  knowledge  of  agricul- 
ture, or  of  the  arts  or  implements  of  the  chase, 
by  means  of  which  food  can  be  procured.  The 
lowest  grade  of  savages  feel  a  natural  hunger  or 
thirst  as  keen  as  that  of  the  highest  orders  of  civil- 
ized man.      But  the  savage  has  no  knowledge 


193 

how  to  rear  the  kixuries  of  the  garden,  the  or- 
chard, the  grain-field,  the  pasture,  or  the  fold. 
Hence  he  subsists  upon  such  uncooked  roots  or 
unsodden  flesh,  as  can  be  found  or  caught  in  the 
neighborhood  of  his  cave  or  wigwam.  But 
knowledge, — an  excited  and  cultivated  intellect, 
— has  been  at  work  for  civilized  man;  and,  in 
obedience  to  its  command,  the  earth  teems  with 
delicious  fruits,  the  valleys  abound  with  fatness, 
the  ocean  becomes  tributary ;  in  fine,  all  the  fields 
of  nature  are  converted  into  one  great  laboratory 
to  prepare  sweets  and  fragrance  and  flavor  for  his 
voluptuous  table.  We  derive  the  appetite,  per- 
fect and  full-grown,  from  our  Maker ;  but  we  are 
left  to  discover  for  ourselves  the  means  and  proc- 
esses by  which  this  appetite  can  best  be  gratified. 
The  result  of  all  our  knowledge  on  this  subject,  is 
expressed  in  the  common  proverb,  that  the  tem- 
perate man  is  the  greatest  epicure  ; — that  is,  the 
greatest  possible  amount  of  gratification  from  eat- 
ing and  drinking  will  be  enjoyed  by  the  temperate 
man; — a  conclusion,  the  very  opposite  of  that 
which  the  appetite  itself  suggests. 

So  in  regard  to  a  love  of  beauty.  Nature  con- 
fers this  sentiment,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
upon  all  the  race.  But  the  cultivation  of  it,  the 
preparation  of  objects  to  gratify  it, — architecture, 
painting,  sculpture, — these  come  through  art  and 
genius,  by  the  application  of  a  knowledge  of  our 
own  acquiring.  The  Indian  bridegroom,  stung 
with  love,  and  seeking  to  beautify  the  tawny 
idol  of  his  affections,  besmears  her  face  with  red 
or  yellow  ochre;  he  tattoos  her  skin,  and  for 
jewels,  suspends  a  string  of  bear's  claws  over 
her  sooty  bosom.  In  consequence  of  possessing 
a  somewhat  higher  knowledge,  our  sense  of  beauty 
is  elevated  perhaps  two  or  three  degrees  above 
that  of  the  barbarian.  Hence  we  seek  to  clothe 
a  beloved  object  with  fine  linen,  and  Tyrian  pur- 
17 


194 

pie,  and  silken  stuffs  of  colors  rich  and  costly ; 
and  instead  of  the  claws  of  bears,  we  adorn  her 
with  carcanets  of  pearl  and  diamonds.  When 
mankind  shall  be  blessed  with  that  purer  and 
higher  knowledge  which  shall  identify  the  types 
of  beauty  with  those  of  excellence,  then  will  our 
ideal,  advancing  with  the  advancing  light,  de- 
mand, as  the  price  of  its  admiration,  richer  orna- 
ments than  Ophir  or  Golconda  can  supply ; — it 
will  demand  the  bloom  and  elasticity  of  perfect 
health,  manners  born  of  artlessness  and  enthu- 
siasm, and  a  countenance  so  inscribed  with  the 
records  of  pure  thoughts  and  benevolent  deeds,  as 
to  be  one  beaming,  holy  hieroglyph  of  love  and 
duty.  Then  will  our  exalted  sense  of  beauty 
repel  the  aggression  of  foreign  ornaments. 

So  the  love  of  property,  to  which  for  another 
purpose  I  have  before  referred,  is  common  to  all. 
There  is  an  inborn  desire  for  the  conveniences, 
the  comforts,  the  elegancies,  the  independence, 
which  property  confers.  But  men  are  not  born 
with  one  particle  of  knowledge  respecting  the 
means  or  instruments  by  which  property  can  be 
acquired.  And  we  all  know  how  certainly  a 
man,  who  acts  from  the  blind  desire,  without  any 
knowledge  of  the  appropriate  means,  brings  ruin 
upon  himself  and  family.  How  much  knowl- 
edge is  requisite,  what  long  courses  of  previous 
study  and  apprenticeship  are  demanded,  to  fit 
men  for  the  learned  professions,  for  commerce, 
manufactures  and  the  mechanic  arts.  Who  would 
consign  his  goods  to  a  merchant  who  knows 
nothing  of  the  laws  of  trade,  of  demand  and  sup- 
ply, of  eligible  markets,  seasons,  and  so  forth  7 
What  a  variety  and  extent  of  preliminary  knowl- 
edge respecting  modes  and  processes  must  be 
obtained,  before  the  fabrics  of  the  artisan  or  the 
manufacturer  can  be  produced.  Suppose  a  young 
man  of  twenty  or  twenty-five  years  of  age,   to 


195 

begin  to  rear  a  family  of  children.  Suppose  him, 
at  the  same  time,  to  inherit  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  money.  He  seeks  to  gratify  his  paren- 
tal instinct,  by  educating  his  children ;  and  he 
seeks  also  to  enlarge  his  estate,  by  purchasing  and 
carrying  on  a  manufacturing  establishment ; — but 
neither  on  the  subject  of  education  nor  of  manu- 
factures, has  he  ever  thought,  or  read,  or  sought 
instruction.  How  long,  think  you,  my  friends, 
would  it  be,  before  the  most  perfect  machinery 
ever  made  by  human  skill  would  be  wrenched, 
or  crushed,  or  torn  in  pieces,  under  his  ignorant 
management ;  the  best  of  cottons  or  woollens 
spoiled,  and  his  whole  fortune  dissipated  7  With- 
out some  knowledge  of  the  art  of  manufacturing, 
he  would  hardly  know  which  way  to  turn  the 
wheels  of  his  machinery ;  he  would  not  know  in 
what  quantities  to  feed  it,  or  in  what  order  and 
succession  to  carry  the  material  from  part  to  part. 
Without  knowledge,  also,  he  will  conduct  the 
education  of  his  children  quite  as  ruinously  as  his 
pecuniary  investments.  If  he  is  unacquainted 
with  the  different  temperaments  which  his  chil- 
dren may  have, — the  lymphatic,  the  sanguine, 
the  nervous,  the  fibrous, — he  will  make  as  great 
mistakes  in  regard  to  diet  and  exercise,  to  intel- 
lectual and  moral  training,  to  mental  stimulus  or 
restraint,  as  though  he  should  attempt  to  weave 
hemp  upon  a  silk-loom.  If  he  does  not  know  in 
what  order  nature  develops  the  faculties,  one 
after  another,  he  will  commit  the  same  error,  as 
though  he  should  put  the  raw  material,  in  the 
first  instance,  on  the  finishing  machine,  and  carry 
it,  last  of  all,  through  the  preliminary  stages.  If 
you  will  allow  me  to  carry  on  the  comparison,  I 
will  add,  that,  to  feed  machinery,  in  any  stage  of 
the  work,  with  such  an  over-quantity  of  stock  as 
clogs  and  chokes  it,  is  only  the  parallel  of  that 
common   misjudgment  which   gives  to  children 


196 

longer  lessons  than  they  can  learn.  So,  to  ply 
the  minds  of  children  with  improper  motives,  in 
order  to  accelerate  their  progress,  is  a  far  greater 
mistake  than  it  would  be  to  drive  machinery  by 
doubling  the  head  of  water  or  the  power  of  steam, 
until  every  shaft  should  be  twisted,  every  band 
stretched,  and  every  pinion  loosened,  in  it.  Such 
a  silly  adventurer  would  bring  depravation  and 
ruin  alike  upon  the  mechanical  and  the  educa- 
tional departments  of  his  enterprise. 

Here  lies  the  great  and  the  only  difference  be- 
tween the  cases.  When  material  fabrics  or  com- 
modities are  spoiled  by  a  bungler, — when  ore  is 
turned  into  dross  in  the  smelting,  when  garments 
are  ruined  in  the  making,  when  a  house  will  not, 
stand,  or  a  ship  will  not  sail, — we  see  what  mis- 
chief has  been  done,  what  materials  have  been 
wasted.  We  understand  enough  of  the  subject  to 
know  what  should  have  been  done,  and  to  com- 
pare it  with  what  has  been  done.  But  no  reflect- 
ing man  can  doubt,  for  a  moment,  that  the  minds* 
of  our  children, — those  treasures  of  inestimable 
value, — are  corrupted  and  devastated  by  every 
ignorant  parent,  in  a  degree  at  least  equal  to 
what  the  most  precious  earthly  materials  would 
be,  in  the  hands  of  the  rudest  workman. 

But  it  is  not  every  child,  nor  even  a  majority 
of  children,  who,  with  any  propriety,  can  be  com- 
pared to  mechanical  structures,  or  to  those  pliant 
and  ductile  materials  that  are  wrought  into  beau- 
tiful forms  by  the  skill  of  the  artisan.  Children 
formed  in  the  prodigality  of  nature,  gifted  to  exert 
strong  influences  upon  the  race,  are  not  passive ; 
— they  are  endued  with  vital  and  efficient  forces 
of  their  own.  Their  capacious  and  fervid  souls 
were  created  to  melt  and  re-cast  opinions,  codes, 
communities,  as  crude  ores  are  melted  and  puri- 
fied in  the  furnace.  To  the  sensitive  and  resilient 
natures  of  such  children,  an  ungentle  touch  is  a 


197 

sting ;  a  hot  word  is  a  living  coal.  By  mere 
innate,  spontaneous  force,  their  vehement  spirits 
rise  to  such  a  pitch  of  exaltation,  that,  if  all  bland 
and  sedative  arts  do  not  assuage  them,  if  all  wis- 
dom does  not  guide  them,  they  become  scourges 
instead  of  blessings  to  mankind.  Such  natures 
are  among  the  richest  gifts  of  Heaven  to  the  race, 
— created  for  great  emergencies  and  enterprises, 
always  finding  or  making  occasions  for  deeds  of 
immortality ; — like  Moses,  scorning  the  power  of 
kings  and  giving  deliverance  to  a  captive  nation ; 
or  like  Paul,  speaking  undaunted  in  the  face  of 
courts,  and  making  potentates  tremble.  Yet 
how  few  parents  know,  or  have  ever  sought  to 
know,  how  to  manage  these  impetuous  and  fiery 
souls !  How  many  parents  regard  physical 
strength  as  the  only  antagonist  and  corrective  of 
spiritual  strength, — ignorant  of  the  truth  that,  to 
a  great  extent,  they  are  incommensurable  quan- 
tities. How  few  reflect  that  a  child  may  be  as 
much  stronger  than  the  parents  in  his  passions, 
as  the  parents  are  stronger  than  the  child,  in  their 
limbs ;  that  wisdom  in  them,  therefore,  is  the  only 
true  correlative  of  will  in  him;  and  that  prudence 
and  discretion  in  the  arrangement  of  circum- 
stances beforehand,  are,  in  thousands  of  cases, 
the  effectual  preventive  of  the  necessity  of  pun- 
ishment afterwards.  If  a  man  rashly  undertakes 
to  use  materials  which  are  liable  to  spontaneous 
combustion,  without  any  knowledge  of  the  con- 
ditions which  are  sure  to  generate  the  flame, 
ought  he  to  complain  of  the  laws  of  nature,  or  of 
his  own  ignorance,  when  he  suffers  a  conflagra- 
tion ?  We  know  that  a  man  of  intelligence  and 
circumspection  will  spend  a  life  in  the  manufac- 
ture or  the  transportation  of  gun-powder,  without 
an  accident;  while  a  stupid  clodpoU  will  cele- 
brate his  first  day's  service  by  an  explosion. 
My  friends,  is  it  not  incredible  that  any  parent 
17* 


19$ 

should  ever  attempt  to  manage  and  direct  that 
mighty  force, — a  child's  soul, — without  having 
first  sought  to  acquire  some  knowledge  of  its  va- 
rious attributes,  of  its  upward  and  its  downward- 
tending  faculties,  of  the  reciprocal  relations  existing 
between  it  and  the  world  into  which  it  has  been 
brought,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  its  marvel- 
lous capacities  may  be  developed  into  harmony 
and  beauty,  and  sanctified  into  holiness?  Look 
at  that  every-day  reality  in  life, — which,  were  it 
not  so  familiar,  we  should  pronounce  the  most 
delightful  sight  in  this  sorrowing  world, — that  of 
a  young  mother  clasping  her  first-born  infant  to 
her  breast,  while  the  light  and  shade  that  cross 
her  countenance  reveal  the  infinite  hopes  and 
fears  that  alternate  within.  What  is  there  of  ease, 
pleasure,  luxury,  fortune,  health,  life,  that  she 
would  not  barter,  could  she  win  a  sign  from  hea- 
ven, that  her  child  should  grow  to  manhood,  and 
as  it  should  wax  strong  in  body,  should  grow  also 
in  favor  with  God  and  man  ?  Yet,  was  there 
any  thing  in  her  own  education,  is  there  any  thing 
in  her  daily  pursuits  in  life,  or  in  the  tone  and 
habits  of  society,  which  lead  her  to  lay  hold  upon 
the  promise,  that  if  she  brings  up  her  child  in  the 
Avay  he  should  go,  when  he  is  old,  he  will  not 
depart  from  it?  If  the  hospitalities  of  her  house 
are  to  be  tendered  to  a  distinguished  guest, — nay, 
if  she  is  only  to  prepare  a  refection  of  cakes  for  a 
tea-party,  she  fails  not  to  examine  some  cookery- 
book,  or  some  manuscript  recipe,  lest  she  should 
convert  her  rich  ingredients  into  unpalatable  com- 
pounds ;  but  without  ever  having  read  one  book 
on  the  subject  of  education,  without  ever  having 
reflected  one  hour  upon  this  great  theme,  without 
ever  having  sought  one  conversation  with  an  in- 
telligent person  upon  it,  she  undertakes  so  to 
mingle  the  earthly  and  the  celestial  elements  of 
instruction  for  that  child's  soul,  that  he  shall  be 


199 

fitted  to  discharge  all  duties  below,  and  to  enjoy 
all  blessings  above.  When  the  young  mother  has 
occasion  to  work  the  initials  of  her  name  upon  her 
household  napery,  does  she  not  consult  the  sam- 
pler, prepared  in  her  juvenile  days,  that  every 
stitch  may  be  set  with  regularity  and  in  order? 
Yet  this  same  mother  surrenders  herself  to  blind 
ignorance  and  chance  when  she  is  to  engrave  im- 
mortal characters  upon  the  eternal  tablets  of  the 
soul.  To  embroider  an  earthly  garment,  there 
must  be  knowledge  and  skill ;  but  neither  is  re- 
garded as  necessary  for  the  fit  adornment  of  the 
soul's  imperishable  vesture.  The  young  mother 
seems  to  think  she  has  done  her  whole  duty  to 
her  child  when  she  has  christened  it  George  Wash- 
ington Lafayette,  or  Evelina  Henrietta  Augusta ; 
but  she  consults  neither  book  nor  friend  to  know 
by  what  hallowed  words  of  counsel  and  of  im- 
j)ulse  she  can  baptize  it  into  a  life  of  wisdom  and 
of  holiness.  What  wonder  then,  what  wonder 
then,  when  children  grow  old,  that  they  should 
disperse  in  all  ways,  rather  than  walk  in  the  way 
in  which  they  should  go  7 

If  the  vehement,  but  blind  love  of  offspring, 
which  comes  by  nature,  is  not  enlightened  and 
guided  by  knowledge,  and  study,  and  reflection, 
it  is  sure  to  defeat  its  own  desires.  Hence,  the 
frequency  and  the  significance  of  such  expres- 
sions as  are  used  by  plain,  rustic  people,  of 
strong  common  sense : — "  There  were  too  many 
peacocks  where  that  boy  was  brought  up;"  or. 
*'  The  silly  girl  is  not  to  blame,  for  she  was  dolled 
up,  from  a  doll  in  the  cradle  to  a  doll  in  the  par- 
lor." All  children  have  foolish  desires,  freaks, 
caprices,  appetites,  which  they  have  no  power  or 
skill  to  gratify;  but  the  foolish  parent  supplies  all 
the  needed  skill,  time,  money,  to  gratify  them; 
and  thus  the  greater  talent  and  resources  of  the 
parent  foster  the  propensities  of  the  child  into 


200 

excess  and  predominance.  The  parental  love 
which  was  designed  by  Heaven  to  be  the  guar- 
dian angel  of  the  child,  is  thus  transformed  into  a 
cruel  minister  of^evil. 

Think,  my  friends,  for  one  moment,  of  the  mar- 
vellous nature  with  which  we  have  been  endowed, 
— of  its  manifold  and  diverse  capacities,  and  of 
their  attributes  of  infinite  expansion  and  dura- 
tion. Then  cast  a  rapid  glance  over  this  mag- 
nificent temple  of  the  universe  into  which  we 
have  been  brought.  The  same  Being  created 
both  by  His  omnipotence ;  and,  by  His  wisdom, 
He  has  adapted  the  dwelling-place  to  the  dweller. 
The  exhaustless  variety  of  natural  objects  by 
which  we  are  surrounded;  the  relations  of  the 
family,  of  society,  and  of  the  race ;  the  adorable 
perfections  of  the  Divine  mind, — these  are  means 
lor  the  development,  and  spheres  for  the  activity, 
and  objects  for  the  aspiration  of  the  immortal  soul. 
For  the  sustentation  of  our  physical  natures,  God" 
has  created  the  teeming  earth,  and  tenanted  the 
field  and  the  forest,  the  ocean  and  the  air,  with 
innumerable  forms  of  life ;  and  He  has  said  to  us, 
"have  dominion"  over  them.  For  the  education 
of  the  perceptive  intellect,  there  have  been  pro- 
vided the  countless  multitude  and  diversity  of 
substances,  forms,  colors,  motions, — from  a  drop 
of  water,  to  the  ocean ;  from  the  tiny  crystal  that 
sparkles  upon  the  shore,  to  the  sun  that  blazes  in 
the  heavens,  and  the  sun-strown  firmament.  For 
the  education  of  the  reflecting  intellect  we  have  the 
infinite  relations  of  discovered  and  undiscovered 
sciences, — the  encyclopsedias  of  matter  and  of 
spirit,  of  which  all  the  encyclopaedias  of  man,  as 
yet  extant,  are  but  the  alphabet.  We  have  domes- 
tic sympathies  looking  backwards,  around,  and 
forwards;  and  answering  to  these,  are  the  ties  of 
filial,  conjugal,  and  parental  relations.  Through 
our  inborn  sense  of  melody  and  harmony,  all  joy- 


201 

ftil  and  plaintive  emotions  flow  out  into  sponta- 
neous music ;  and,  not  friends  and  kindred  only, 
but  even  dead  nature  echoes  back  our  sorrows 
and  our  joys.  To  give  a  costless  delight  to  our 
sense  of  beauty,  we  have  the  variegated  land- 
scape, the  rainbow,  the  ever-renewing  beauty  of 
the  moon,  the  glories  of  the  rising  and  the  setting 
sun,  and  the  ineffable  purity  and  splendor  of  that 
celestial  vision  when  the  northern  and  the  southern 
auroras  shoot  up  from  the  horizon,  and  overspread 
the  vast  concave  with  their  many-colored  flame, 
as  though  it  were  a  reflection  caught  from  the 
waving  banner  of  angels,  when  the  host  of  hea- 
ven rejoices  over  some  sinner  that  has  repented. 
And  finally,  for  the  amplest  development,  for 
the  eternal  progress  of  those  attributes  that  are 
proper  to  man, — for  conscience,  for  the  love  of 
truth,  for  that  highest  of  all  emotions,  the  love  and 
adoration  of  our  Creator, — God,  in  his  unsearchable 
riches,  has  made  full  provision.  And  here,  on  the 
one  hand,  is  the  subject  of  education, — the  child, 
with  its  manifold  and  wonderful  powers ; — and, 
on  the  other  hand,  this  height,  and  depth,  and 
boundlessness  of  natural  and  of  spiritual  instru- 
mentalities, to  build  up  the  nature  of  that  child, 
into  a  capacity  for  the  intellectual  comprehension 
of  the  universe,  and  into  a  spiritual  similitude  to 
its  Author.  And  who  are  they  that  lay  their  rash 
hands  upon  this  holy  work?  Where  or  when 
have  they  learned,  or  sought  to  learn,  to  look  at 
the  unfolding  powers  of  the  child's  soul,  and  to 
see  what  it  requires,  and  then  to  run  their  eye 
and  hand  over  this  universe  of  material  and  of 
moral  agencies,  and  to  select  and  apply  whatever 
is  needed,  at  the  time  needed,  and  in  the  measure 
needed?  Surely,  in  no  other  department  of  life 
is  knowledge  so  indispensable;  surely,  in  no  other 
is  it  so  little  sought  for.  In  no  other  navigation 
is  there  such  danger  of  wreck ;  in  no  other  is 
there  such  bhnd  pilotage. 


202 

But  the  parent  has  the  child  on  hand,  and  he 
must  educate  and  control  him.  For  this  purpose, 
he  must  apply  such  means  and  motives  as  he  is 
acquainted  with  ;  and  use  them  with  such  skill  as 
he  may  happen  to  possess.  In  regard  to  the  in- 
tellect, the  parent  has  one  general  notion  that  the 
child  has  faculties  by  which  he  can  learn,  and  he 
has  another  general  notion  that  there  are  things  to 
be  learned ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  he  is  utterly  ig- 
norant of  the  distinctive  nature  of  the  intellectual 
faculties ;  of  the  periods  of  their  respective  devel- 
opment ;  of  the  particular  classes  of  objects  in 
the  external  world,  and  the  particular  subjects  of 
philosophical  speculation,  which  are  related  to 
particular  faculties,  and  adapted  to  arouse  and 
strengthen  them ;  and  he  is  also  ignorant  of  all 
the  favoring  circnmstances  under  which  the  facul- 
ties and  their  related  objects  should  be  brought 
into  communion.  In  such  a  condition  of  things, 
are  not  the  chances  as  infinity  to  one  against  the 
proper  training  of  the  child? 

I  say,  the  parent  who  has  never  read  or  reflected 
on  this  subject,  is  necessarily  ignorant  of  the  favor- 
ing circumstances  under  which  knowledge  should 
be  addressed  to  a  child's  mind.  What  but  a  pro- 
found and  widely  prevalent  ignorance  on  this 
point,  can  account  for  the  fact,  that  a  parent 
should  send  his  child  of  four  years  of  age  to  a 
dreary  and  repulsive  schoolroom,  and  plant  him 
there  upon  a  seat,  which,  like  the  old  instruments 
of  torture,  seems  to  have  been  contrived  in  the 
light  of  anatomical  knowledge,  and  preadapted 
to  shoot  aches  and  cramps  into  every  joint  and 
muscle  ?  What  but  ignorance  on  this  subject, 
could  ever  permit  a  teacher  to  enforce  stagnation 
upon  both  the  body  and  the  mind  of  a  little  child, 
for  at  least  two  hours  and  a  half  of  the  three  hours 
in  each  half  day's  session  of  a  school?  In  our 
old  schoolhouses,  and  under  our  old  system,  were 


203 

not  little  cliildren  d-enkd  alike  the  repose  of  sleep 
and  the  excitements  of  being  awake  ?  Were  not 
llieir  heads  often  siuTounded  by  air  as  hot  and 
dry  as  that  of  ^n  African  desert,  Avhile  Boreas 
was  allowed  to  seize  them  by  the  feet?  Were 
they  not  condemned  to  read  what  they  did  not 
comprehend,  and  to  commit  to  memory  arbitrary 
rnles  in  grammar  and  in  arithmetic,  which  were 
not  explained  1  Did  the  parent  visit  the  school, 
or  manifest  interest  and  sympathy  in  the  studies 
of  the  child?  And  when,  at  last,  alienation  and 
disgust  succeeded,  when  the  school  was  deserted, 
the  books  thrown  aside,  and  scenes  of  rude  and 
riotous  pleasure  were  sought  in  their  stead,  did 
not  the  parent  justify  himself,  and  throw  the  blame 
of  his  own  follj'-upon  nature,  by  saying,  Alas  !  the 
child  never  loved  learning]  But  I  ask  whether 
such  a  course  of  proceeding  is  a  fair  trial  of  the 
question,  whether  God  has  created  the  human 
intellect  to  hate  knowledge?  In  all  soberness  I 
ask,  whether  it  would  not  be  every  whit  as  fair 
an  experiment,  should  an  idiot  seize  a  child  in  one 
hand  and  a  honey-pot  in  the  other,  and  after 
besmearing  the  soles  of  his  feet  and  the  palms  of 
liis  hands,  and  the  nape  of  his  neck  with  the  honey, 
and  producing  only  resistance  and  disgust,  should 
then  deny  that  children  like  honey  ? 

Still  more  disastrous  are  the  mistakes  of  igno- 
rance, in  moral  training.  All  punishment,  for  in- 
stance, holds  the  most  intimate  relation  to  morals ; 
and  yet,  how  reckless  and  absurd  is  its  infliction, 
when  administered  by  ignorant  or  passionate  pa- 
rents. When  a  child  is  made  to  expiate  a  wrong,  by 
committing  to  memory  two  chapters  in  the  Bible, — 
as  many  a  child  has  been  compelled  to  do, — does  it 
make  him  love  the  right  or — hate  the  Bible?  When 
a  rich  father  threatens  to  disinherit  a  wayward 
son,  does  the  menace  tend  to  make  that  son  obey 
the  fifth  commandment,  or  does  it  only  make  him 


204 

hope  that  his  father  will  die  in  a  fit,  and  too  siid 
denly  to  make  a  will  7  I  once  saw  the  mother  of 
a  large  family  of  children, — a  woman  who  would 
have  been  ashamed  not  to  be  able  to  discuss  the 
merits  of  the  latest  novel, — induce  her  little  son 
to  take  a  nauseous  dose  of  medicine,  by  telling 
him  that  if  he  did  not  swallow  it  quickly,  she 
would  call  in  his  little  sister  and  give  it  all  to  her; 
and  so  strong  had  the  selfish  desire  of  getting 
something  from  his  sister  become,  that  the  little 
imp  shut  his  eyes,  scowled  terribly,  and  gulped 
down  the  dose.  When  a  child,  to  whom  no 
glimpse  of  the  necessity  and  beauty  of  truth  has 
ever  been  revealed,  sees  a  terrific  storm  of  ven- 
geance gathering  over  him,  and  just  ready  to 
burst  upon  his  head,  it  is  not  depravity,  it  is  only 
the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  that  prompts  him 
to  escape  through  falsehood.  Bodily  fear  is  one 
of  the  lowest  of  all  motives,  whether  we  regard 
the  object  or  the  actor.  As  it  regards  the  object,  it 
is  the  brute,  and  the  brutish  part  of  man  only,  that 
are  amenable  to  it.  As  it  regards  the  agent,  no 
one  is  so  ignorant  and  barbarous  as  not  to  know 
its  power.  The  Hottentot,  the  Esquimaux,  the 
Feejee  Islander, — all  know  that  the  power  of  in- 
flicting corporal  pain  produces  subjection  ; — nay, 
the  more  ignorant  and  barbarian  any  one  may  be, 
the  more  sure  is  he  to  make  the  power  of  inflict- 
ing pain  his  only  resource.  I  do  not  mean  to  say, 
that,  in  the  present  state  of  society,  this  motive 
can  be  wholly  dispensed  with,  in  the  government 
of  children  ;  or,  that  evils  worse  than  itself  might 
not  arise  from  its  universal  proscription.  Still,  its 
true  place  is  certainly  at,  or  very  near,  the  bottom 
of  the  scale.  It  may  be  used  to  prevent  wrong, 
by  the  sudden  arrest  of  the  oflender ;  but  it  never 
can  be  used  as  an  incentive  to  good.  Other  low 
classes  of  motives  consist  in  the  gratification  of 
appetite,  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  the  love  of 


205 

display,  the  desire  of  outshining  others,  and  so 
forth.  A  character  of  high  and  enduring  excel- 
lence can  never  be  formed  from  any  quantity  or 
any  combination  of  these  elements.  If  distinction 
is  the  only  thing  for  which  my  heart  pants,  and  I 
happen  to  belong  to  a  community  or  a  party  that 
reverences  truth  and  virtue,  then  I  shall  be  led  to 
simulate  such  motives  and  to  perform  such  exter- 
nal actions  as  resemble  truth  and  virtue.  Even 
then,  however,  the  semblance,  and  not  the  reality, 
will  be  my  aim.  But  if  I  am  transferred  to  an- 
other community  or  party,  which  carries  its  meas- 
ures by  persecution  and  senseless  clamor,  or  by 
persistence  in  falsehood  and  wrong ;  then,  spurred 
on  by  the  same  love  of  distinction,  I  shall  perse- 
cute, and  clamor  senselessly,  and  persist  to  the 
end  in  falsehood  and  wrong.  It  is  because  of  a 
prevalent  ignorance  how  to  use  the  motives  of 
filial  affection,  of  justice,  of  benevolence,  of  duty 
to  God,  of  doing  right  for  the  internal  delight 
which  doing  right  bestows; — it  is  because  of  this 
prevalent  ignorance,  that  bodily  fear,  the  pleas- 
ures of  appetite,  emulation  and  pride,  constitute 
so  large  a  portion  of  the  motive-forces  that  are 
now  employed  in  the  education  of  children.  And 
parents  are  yet  to  be  made  to  believe,  with  a 
depth  of  conviction  they  have  never  experienced  ; 
they  are  to  be  made  to  feel  as  they  have  never  yet 
felt,  that,  from  the  same  infant  natures  committed 
to  their  care,  they  may  rear  up  children  who  will 
be  an  honor  to  their  old  age,  and  a  statf  for  their 
declining  years,  or  those  who  will  bring  down 
their  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave; — and 
that,  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  these  results 
depend,  more  than  upon  all  things  else,  upon  the 
knowledge  or  the  ignorance,  the  wisdom  or  the 
folly,  that  superintends  their  training. 

In  explaining  that  part  of  the  work  of  educa- 
tion which  the  Creator  seems  to  have  committed 
18 


206 

to  the  hands  of  men,  I  have  been  led  thus  far  to 
speak  of  our  duties  as  individuals,  rather  than 
of  those  social  and  civil  duties  which  devolve  upon 
us  as  neighbors,  as  citizens,  and  as  constituent 
parts  of  the  government. 

The  first  glance  at  our  social  position  reveals 
one  of  the  most  striking  and  significant  facts  in 
the  arrangements  of  Providence ;  and,  as  a  conse- 
quence of  this  fact,  one  of  the  clearest  of  our  social 
duties.  A  parent,  however  vigilant  and  devoted 
he  may  be,  prepares  only  a  part  of  the  influences 
which  go  to  the  education  of  his  child.  The  com- 
munity, and  the  State  where  he  resides,  prepare  the 
rest.  The  united  force  of  all  makes  up  the  posi- 
tive education  which  the  child  receives.  No  per- 
son can  now  be  situated  as  Adam  and  Eve  were, 
when  rearing  the  two  elder  members  of  their 
family.  Without  knowledge,  and  guided  only  by 
chance,  or  by  their  own  uninstructed  sagacity,  they 
reared  first  a  murderer,  and  then  one  who  feared 
God.  The  first  was  what  we  call  a  spoiled  child, 
— whether  ruined  by  indulgence  or  by  severity, 
we  know  not,  perhaps  by  both  ; — the  second  had 
the  advantage  of  a  little  parental  experience.  But 
since  their  day,  all  children  are  subject  to  influences 
external  to  the  parental  household.  No  parent, 
now,  can  bring  up  his  child  in  an  exhausted  re- 
ceiver. And  hence  the  necessity  that  each  parent 
should  look,  not  only  to  his  own  conduct,  but  to  the 
conduct  of  the  community  in  which  he  resides. 
That  community  must  be  moral  and  exemplary,  in 
order  that  he  may  be  safe.  Here,  therefore,  even 
an  enlightened  selfishness  coincides  with  benevo- 
lence. In  order  to  our  own  highest  good,  we  are 
bound  to  do  good  to  others;  for  we  cannot  be 
wholly  safe  while  they  are  wrong.  How  glorious 
the  appointment  of  Providence,  which  thus  re- 
conciles self-love  with  the  love  of  the  race ;  which, 
indeed,  makes  the  former  defeat  its  own  ends, 


207 

when  it  pursues  them  in  contravention  of  the 
latter.  The  love  of  our  own  children,  then,  when 
duly  enlightened,  prompts  us  to  regard  the  wel- 
fare of  our  neighbors'. 

Emphatically  do  some  of  the  most  important 
of  all  duties  devolve  upon  us,  as  members  of  a 
State  which  is  invested  with  the -authority  to  leg- 
islate for  itself.  If  we  were  governed  by  others, 
on  their  heads  would  be  the  crime  of  our  misgov- 
ernment ;  but  when  we  govern  ourselves,  and 
govern  wrongly,  we  unite,  in  our  own  persons, 
both  the  guilt  and  the  calamities  of  misgovern- 
ment.  In  the  present  state  of  society,  an  educa- 
tion of  a  high  character  cannot  be  universally 
diflfused,  without  a  union  of  the  forces  of  society, 
and  a  concert  iii  its  action.  Cooperation  and 
unity  of  purpose  will  be  found  to  increase  the 
power  of  citizens,  in  peace,  as  much  as  they  do  of 
soldiers  in  war.  And  hence  the  duty  of  combined 
action,  on  the  part  of  the  community,  in  reference 
to  this  subject.  But  combined  action  can  never 
be  effected,  to  any  useful  purpose,  amongst  a  free 
people,  without  agreement,  without  compact,  that 
is, — where  the  action  of  great  numbers  is  con- 
cerned,— without  law.  Upon  the  lawgivers  then, 
there  fastens  an  obligation  of  inexpressible  mag- 
nitude and  sacredness ;  and  utterly  unworthy  the 
honorable  station  of  a  lawgiver  is  he,  who  would 
elude  this  duty,  or  who  unfaithfully  discharges  it, 
or  who  perverts  it  to  any  sinister  purpose.  And 
why  should  the  legislator  forever  debase  his  char- 
acter to  that  of  a  scourger,  a  prison-keeper,  and 
an  executioner?  Why,  wearing  a  gorgon's  head 
and  carrying  stripes  in  his  hand,  should  he  pass 
before  the  community,  as  an  avenger  of  evil  only, 
and  not  as  the  promoter  and  rewarder  of  good  1 
If  terror  and  retribution  are  his  highest  attributes, 
then  his  post  is  no  more  honorable  than  that  of 
the  beadle  who  whips,  or  of  the  headsman  who 


SOB 

decapitates.  A  legislator,  worthy  of  the  name, 
should  seek  for  honor  and  veneration,  by  moving 
through  society  as  a  minister  of  beneficence,  rather 
than  as  a  spectre  of  fear.  He  should  reflect  that 
new  and  better  results  in  the  condition  of  man- 
kind, are  to  be  secured  by  new  and  wiser  meas- 
ures. We  are  not  to  ask  Heaven  for  the  annihi- 
lation of  the  present  race,  and  the  creation  of  a 
new  one;  but  we  are  to  ascertain  and  to  use 
those  means,  for  the  renovation,  the  redemption 
of  mankind,  which  have  been  given,  or  which 
the  veracity  of  Heaven  stands  pledged  to  give, 
whenever,  on  our  part,  we  perform  the  conditions 
preliminary  to  receiving  them. 

You  all  recollect,  my  friends,  that  memorable 
fire  which  befell  the  city  of  New  York,  in  the 
year  1835.  It  took  place  in  the  heart  of  that 
great  emporium, — a  spot  where  merchants,  whose 
wealth  was  like  princes',  had  gathered  their  treas- 
ures. In  but  few  places  on  the  surface  of  the 
globe,  was  there  accumulated  such  a  mass  of 
riches.  From  each  continent  and  from  all  the 
islands  of  the  sea,  ships  had  brought  thither  their 
tributary  offerings,  until  it  seemed  like  a  maga- 
zine of  the  nations, — the  coffer  of  the  world's 
wealth.  In  the  midst  of  these  hoards,  the  fire 
broke  out.  It  raged  between  two  and  three  days. 
Above,  the  dome  of  the  sky  was  filled  with  ap- 
palling blackness ;  below,  the  flames  were  of  an 
unapproachable  intensity  of  light  and  heat;  and 
such  were  the  inclemency  of  the  season  and  the 
raging  of  the  elements,  that  all  human  power  and 
human  art  seemed  as  vanity  and  nothing.  Yet, 
situated  in  the  very  midst  of  that  conflagration, 
there  was  one  building,  upon  which  the  storm  of 
fire  beat  in  vain.  AH  around,  from  elevated 
points  in  the  distance,  from  steeples  and  the  roofs 
of  houses,  thousands  of  the  trembling  inhabitants 
gazed  upon  the  awful  scene;    and  thought, — as 


209 

well  they  might, — that  it  was  one  of  universal  and 
undistinguishing  havoc.  But,  as  some  swift 
cross-wind  furrowed  athwart  that  sea  of  flame, 
or  a  broad  blast  beat  down  its  aspiring  crests, 
there,  safe  amidst  ruin,  erect  amongst  the  falling, 
was  seen  that  single  edifice.  And  when,  at  last, 
the  ravage  ceased,  and  men  again  walked  those 
streets  in  sorrow,  which  so  lately  they  had  walked 
in  pride,  there  stood  that  solitary  edifice,  unharmed 
amid  surrounding  desolation  ; — from  the  founda- 
tion to  the  cope-stone,  unscathed ; — and  over  the 
treasures  which  had  been  confided  to  its  keeping, 
the  smell  of  fire  had  not  passed.  There  it  stood, 
like  an  honest  man  in  the  streets  of  Sodom. 
Now,  why  was  this?  It  was  constructed  from 
the  same  materials,  of  brick  and  mortar,  of  iron 
and  slate,  with  the  thousands  around  it,  whose 
substance  was  now  rubbish,  and  their  contents 
ashes.  Now,  why  was  this  7  It  was  built  by  a 
workman.  It  was  built  by  a  workman.  The 
man  who  erected  that  surviving,  victorious  struc- 
ture kneiD  the  nature  of  the  materials  he  used; 
he  knew  the  element  of  fire ;  he  knew  the  power 
of  combustion.  Fidelity  seconded  his  knowledge. 
He  did  not  put  in  stucco  for  granite,  nor  touch- 
wood for  iron.  He  was  not  satisfied  with  outside 
ornaments,  with  finical  cornices  and  gingerbread 
work ;  but  deep  in  all  its  hidden  foundations, — in 
the  interior  of  its  walls,  and  in  all  its  secret  joints, 
— where  no  human  eye  should  ever  see  the  com- 
pact masonry, — he  consolidated,  and  cemented, 
and  closed  it  in,  until  it  became  impregnable  to 
fire, — insoluble  in  that  volcano.  And  thus,  my 
hearers,  must  parents  become  workmen  in  the 
education  of  their  children.  They  must  know 
that,  from  the  very  nature  and  constitution  of 
things,  a  lofty  and  enduring  character  cannot  be 
formed  by  ignorance  and  chance.  They  must 
know  that  no  skill  or  power  of  man  can  ever  lay 
18* 


210 

the  imperishable  foundations  of  virtue,  by  using 
the  low  motives  of  fear,  and  the  pride  of  superi- 
ority, and  the  love  of  Avorldly  applause  or  of 
worldly  wealth,  any  more  than  they  can  rear  a 
material  edifice,  storm-proof  and  fire-proof,  from 
bamboo  and  cane-brake ! 

Until,  then,  this  subject  of  education  is  far  more 
studied  and  far  better  understood  than  it  has  ever 
yet  been,  there  can  be  no  security  for  the  forma- 
tion of  pure  and  noble  minds ;  and  though  the 
child  that  is  born  to-day  may  turn  out  an  Abel,  yet 
we  have  no  assurance  that  he  will  not  be  a  Cain. 
Until  parents  will  learn  to  train  up  children  in 
the  way  they  should  go, — until  they  will  learn 
what  that  way  is, — the  paths  that  lead  down  to 
the  realms  of  destruction  must  continue  to  be 
thronged ; — the  doting  father  shall  feel  the  pangs 
of  a  disobedient  and  profligate  son,  and  the 
mother  shall  see  the  beautiful  child  whom  she 
folds  to  her  bosom,  turn  to  a  coiling  serpent  and 
sting  the  breast  upon  which  it  was  cherished. 
Until  the  thousandth  and  the  ten  thousandth  gen- 
eration shall  have  passed  away,  the  Deity  may 
go  on  doing  his  part  of  the  work,  but  unless  we 
do  our  part  also,  the  work  will  never  be  done, — 
and  until  it  is  done,  the  river  of  parental  tears 
must  continue  to  flow.  Unlike  Rachel, /parents 
shall  weep  for  their  children  because  they  are,  and 
not  because  they  are  not; — nor  shall  they  be 
comforted,  until  they  will  learn,  that  God  in  His 
infinite  wisdom  has  pervaded  the  universe  with 
immutable  laws, — laws  which  may  be  made  pro- 
ductive of  the  highest  forms  of  goodness  and 
happiness; — and,  in  His  infinite  mercy,  has  pro- 
vided the  means  by  which  those  laws  can  be  dis- 
covered and  obeyed ;  but  that  He  has  left  it  to  us 
to  learn  and  to  apply  them,  or  to  suflfer  the  unut- 
terable consequences  of  ignorance.  But  when 
we  shall  learn  and  shall  obey  those  laws, — when 


211 

the  immortal  nature  of  the  child  shall  be  brought 
within  the  action  of  those  influences, — each  at  its 
appointed  time, — which  have  been  graciously 
prepared  for  training  it  up  in  the  way  it  should 
go,  then  may  we  be  sure,  that  God  will  clothe  its 
spirit  in  garments  of  amianthiis^  that  it  may  not 
be  corrupted,  and  of  asbestos^  that  it  may  not  be 
consumed,  and  that  it  will  be  able  to  walk  through 
the  pools  of  earthly  pollution,  and  through  the 
furnace  of  earthly  temptation,  and  come  forth 
white  as  linen  that  has  been  washed  by  the  fuller, 
and  pure  as  the  golden  wedge  of  Ophir  that  has 
been  refined  in  the  refiner's  fire. 


LECTURE  V. 

1841. 


LECTURE  V. 

AN  HISTORICAL  VIEW  OF  EDUCATION;    SHOWING 
ITS  DIGNITY  AND  ITS  DEGRADATION. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Convention  : 

In  treating  any  important  and  comprehensive 
subject,  it  will  inevitably  happen  that  some  por- 
tions of  it  will  be  found  less  interesting  than  others; 
— inferior  in  beauty,  dignity,  elevation.  In  every 
book  we  read,  some  chapters  will  be  less  animat- 
ing and  instructive  than  the  rest;  in  every  land- 
scape we  survey,  some  features  less  impressive 
and  grand  ;  in  every  journey  we  take,  some  stages 
more  dreary  and  laborious.  Yet  we  must  accept 
them  together,  as  a  whole, — the  poor  with  the  good. 
This  is  my  apology  for  presenting  to  you,  at  the 
present  time,  a  class  of  views,  Avhich, — whether 
they  excite  more  or  less  interest, — will  derive 
none  of  it  from  flattering  our  self-complacency. 

In  attempting  a  series  of  lectures  on  the  great  sub- 
ject of  Education,  I  have  arrived  at  a  topic  which 
must  be  discussed,  however  far  it  may  fall  below 
the  average  in  interest  and  attractiveness.  In 
previous  lectures,  I  have  spoken  of  the  general 
state  and  condition  of  education  amongst  us ;  and 
have  pointed  out  some  of  the  more  urgent  and 
immediate  wants  which  it  enjoins  us  to  supply. 
I  have  endeavored  to  unfold  some  of  the  more 
vital  principles  of  this  great  science ;  I  have 
spoken  of  its  objects ;  of  its  importance  in  all  coun- 
tries and  in  all  times  ;  and,  more  especially,  of  its 
absolute  and  unconditional  necessity  under  social 
and  political  institutions  like  ours.     Under  this 


216 

last  head,  I  have  endeavored  to  demonstrate  that, 
in  a  land  of  liberty, — that  is,  in  a  land  where  the 
people,  in  their  collective  capacity,  are  free  to  do 
wrong  as  well  as  free  to  do  right ;  where  there  is  no 
sanguinary  or  surgical  code  of  laws,  to  cut  off 
the  offending  members  of  society ;  no  thousand- 
eyed  police  to  detect  transgression  and  crush  it  in 
the  germ ; — in  fine,  where  there  are  few  external 
restraints  which  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
appetites  and  passions  of  men, — that,  in  such  a 
land,  there  must  be  internal  restraints;  that  rea- 
son, conscience,  benevolence,  and  a  reverence  for 
all  that  is  sacred,  must  supply  the  place  of  force 
and  fear ;  and,  for  this  purpose,  the  very  instincts 
of  self-preservation  admonish  us  to  perfect  our 
system  of  education,  and  to  carry  it  on  far  more 
generally  and  more  vigorously  than  we  have  ever 
yet  done.  For  this  purpose  we  must  study  the 
principles  of  education  more  profoundly ;  we  must 
make  ourselves  acquainted  with  the  art,  or  pro- 
cesses, by  which  those  principles  can  be  applied 
in  practice ;  and,  by  establishing  proper  agencies 
and  institutions,  we  must  cause  a  knowledge  both 
of  the  science  and  the  art  to  be  diffused  through- 
out the  entire  mass  of  the  people. 

In  this  stage  of  the  inquiry,  it  seems  proper  to 
consider  in  what  relative  esteem  or  disesteem  the 
subject  of  education  has  heretofore  been  held,  and 
is  now  held,  in  the  regards  of  men.  liCt  us  seek 
an  answer  to  such  questions  as  these  : — Have  men 
assigned  to  the  cause  of  education  a  high  or  a  low 
position?  What  things  have  they  placed  above 
it;  and  what  things,  (if  any,)  have  they  placed 
below  it  7  How  have  its  followers  been  honored 
or  rewarded?  What  means,  instrumentalities, 
accommodations,  have  been  provided  for  carrying 
on  the  work  ?  In  fine,  when  its  interests  have 
come  in  competition  with  other  interests,  which 
h^ve  been  made  to  yield?    It  is  related  of  a  certain 


217 

king,  that,  when  embarked  on  a  voyage,  attended 
by  some  of  his  courtiers,  and  carrying  with  him 
some  of  his  treasures,  a  storm  arose,  which  made 
it  necessary  to  hghten  the  ship  ; — whereupon,  he 
commanded  his  courtiers  to  be  thrown  overboard, 
but  saved  his  money.  How  is  it  with  parents, 
who  are  embarked  with  fortune  and  family  on 
this  voyage  of  hfe; — when  they  need  a  better 
schoolhouse  to  save  their  children  from  ill  health, 
or  a  better  teacher  to  rescue  them  from  immorality 
and  ignorance;  or  even  a  slate  or  a  shilling's 
worth  of  paper  to  save  them  from  idleness  ; — have 
we  any  parents  amongst  us,  or  have  we  not,  who, 
under  such  circumstances,  will  fling  the  child 
overboard,  and  save  the  shilling? 

A  ten  pound  weight  will  not  more  certainly 
weigh  down  a  five  poiuid  weight,  than  a  man  will 
act  in  obedience  to  that  which,  on  the  whole,  is 
his  strongest  motive.  When,  therefore,  we  would 
ascertain  the  rank  which  education  actually  holds 
in  the  regards  of  any  community,  we  must  not 
merely  listen  to  what  that  community  says;  we 
must  see  what  it  dt)es.  This  is  especially  true,  in 
our  country,  where  this  cause  has  so  many  flat- 
terers, but  so  few  friends.  Not  by  their  words, 
but  by  their  works,  shall  ye  know  them,  is  a  test 
of  universal  application.  Nor  must  wc  stop  with 
inspecting  the  form  of  the  system  which  may  have 
been  anywhere  established;  we  must  see  whether 
it  be  a  live  system,  or  an  automaton. 

A  practical  unbelief  as  to  the  power  of  educa- 
tion,— the  power  of  physical,  intellectual  and 
moral  training, — exists  amongst  us.  As  a  people, 
wc  do  not  believe  that  these  fleshly  tabernacles, — 
which  we  call  tabernacles  of  clay, — may,  by  a 
proper  course  of  training,  become  as  it  were  taber- 
nacles of  iron ;  or,  by  an  improper  course  of  train- 
ing, may  become  tabernacles  ot  glass.  We  do  not 
believe,  that  if  we  would  understand  and  obey 
19 


218 

the  Physical  Laws  of  onr  nature,  our  bodies  might 
be  so  compacted  and  toughened,  that  they  would 
outlast  ten  cast-iron  bodies ;  or,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  by  ignorant  and  vicious  management,  they 
may  become  so  sleazy  and  puny,  that  a  body  of 
glass,  made  by  a  glass-blower,  would  outlast  ten 
of  them.  We  have  no  practical  belief  that  the 
human  intellect,  under  a  course  of  judicious  cul- 
ture, can  be  made  to  grow  brighter  and  brighter, 
like  the  rising  sun,  until  it  shall  shed  its  light 
over  the  dark  problems  of  humanity,  and  put 
ignorance  and  superstition  to  flight; — we  do  not 
believe  this,  as  we  believe  that  corn  will  grow,  or 
that  a  stone  will  fall ;  and  yet  the  latter  facts  are 
no  more  in  accordance  with  the  benign  laws  of 
nature  than  the  former.  We  manifest  no  liv- 
ing, impulsive  faith  in  the  scriptural  declaration, 
"  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and 
when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it."  The 
Scripture  does  not  say  that  he  'probably  will  not 
depart  from  it;  or  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten 
he  will  not  depart  from  it ;  but  it  asserts,  posi- 
tively and  unconditionally,  that  he  will  not  de- 
part from  it; — the  declaration  being  philosophi- 
cally founded  upon  the  fact,  that  God  has  made 
provision  for  the  moral  welfare  of  all  his  creatures, 
and  that,  when  we  do  not  attain  to  it,  the  failure 
is  caused  by  our  own  ignorance  or  neglect.  It 
is  not  more  true  that  a  well-built  ship  will  float 
in  sea- water  instead  of  diving  to  the  bottom,  than 
it  is  that  spiritually-cultivated  affections  will  buoy 
up  their  possessor  above  the  low  indulgences  of 
sensuality,  and  avarice,  and  profaneness,  and  in- 
temperance, and  irreverence  towards  things  sacred. 
But  I  repeat,  that,  as  a  people,  we  have  no 
living  faith  in  these  sublime  and  indestructible 
truths ; — no  faith  that  makes  the  mind  think  and 
the  hand  work ;  no  faith  that  induces  exertions 
and  sacrifices,  as  men  exert  themselves  to  acquire 


219 

fortunes  or  to  obtain  honors.  Did  we  compre- 
hend, in  all  their  vastness  and  splendor,  the  rewards 
of  earthly  honor  and  glory,  and  of  a  blissful  im- 
mortality, which  an  appropriate  training  of  all 
parts  of  their  nature  is  fitted  to  procure  for  our 
children,  then  we  should  hunger  and  thirst  after 
the  requisite  knowledge;  we  should  make  all  ef- 
forts and  sacrifices  to  secure  the  outward  means, 
by  which  so  great  a  prize  could  be  won ;  and  we 
should  subordinate  all  other  desires  to  this  grand 
desire.  It  would  rise  with  us  in  the  morning, 
attend  us  through  the  day,  retire  with  us  to  the 
nightly  couch,  and  mingle  its  aspirations,  not  only 
with  our  prayers  but  with  our  dreams. 

And,  furthermore,  as  a  people,  we  justify  our 
scepticism  in  regard  to  the  power  of  education ; 
we  virtually  charge  it  with  impotency;  we  say 
that,  of  two  children,  brought  up  in  the  same 
family,  in  precisely  the  same  manner,  and  under 
the  same  influences,  one  shall  be  almost  a  saint, 
and  the  other  quite  a  sinner ;  when  the  truth  is, 
that  the  natural  temperament  and  dispositions  of 
children  belonging  to  the  same  family,  are  often 
so  diflferent  from  each  other,  that  their  being 
brought  up  in  precisely  the  same  manner,  under 
the  same  influences,  and,  of  course,  without  any 
of  the  necessary  discriminations,  is  enough  to 
account  for  the  result  that,  while  one  of  them  may 
be  almost  a  saint,  the  other  should  be  the  chief  of 
sinners. 

We  also  appeal  to  the  history  of  the  past,  and 
aver  that  among  the  most  enlightened  nations  of 
the  earth,  education  has  done  little  or  nothing 
towards  producing  a  state  of  individual  and  social 
well-being,  at  once  universal  and  permanent; — 
and  now,  in  this  infancy  of  the  world,  we  rashly 
prescribe  limits  to  what  may  be  done,  from  what 
has  been  done, — which  is  about  as  wise  as  it 
would   be   to  say  of  an  infant,  that  because   it 


220 

never  has  walked  or  talked,  it  never  will  walk 
or  talk. 

My  purpose  and  hope,  on  the  present  occasion, 
are,  to  vindicate  the  cause  of  education  from  this 
charge  of  imbecihty;  and  to  show  that  it  has 
prospered  less  than  other  causes  have  prospered, 
for  the  sole  and  simple,  but  sufficient  reason,  that 
it  has  been  cherisiied  less  than  other  causes  have 
been  cherished, — ^not  only  in  former  times  and  in 
other  countries,  but  in  our  own  time  and  country, 
that  is,  always  and  every  where. 

I  affirm  generally,  that,  up  to  the  present  age 
and  hour,  the  main  current  of  social  desires  and 
energies, — the  literature,  the  laws,  the  wealth,  the 
talent,  the  character-forming  institutions  of  the 
world, — have  flowed  in  other  channels,  and  left 
this  one  void  of  fertilizing  power.  Philosophers, 
morahsts,  sages,  who  have  illumined  the  world 
with  the  splendor  of  their  genius  on  other  subjects, 
have  rarely  shed  the  feeblest  beam  of  light  upon 
this.  Of  all  the  literature  of  the  ancients  which 
has  come  down  to  us,  only  a  most  meagre  and 
inconsiderable  part  has  any  reference  to  education. 
Examine  Homer  and  Virgil,  among  the  poets; 
Herodotus,  Josephus  or  Livy,  among  the  histo- 
rians; or  Plutarch  among  biographers;  and  you 
would  never  infer  that,  according  to  their  philos- 
ophy, the  conjmon  mass  of  children  did  not  grow 
up  noble  or  hateful,  by  a  force  of  their  own,  like 
a  cedar  of  Lebanon,  or  a  wild  thorn-tree. 

The  most  'important  and  most  general  fact 
which  meets  us,  on  approaching  this  subject,  is, 
that,  until  within  less  than  two  centuries  of  the 
present  time,  no  system  of  free  schools  for  a  whole 
people  was  maintained  anywhere  upon  earth  ;  and 
then,  only  in  one  of  the  colonies  of  this  country, 
— that  colony  being  the  feeble  and  inconsiderable 
one  of  Massachusetts,  containing  at  that  time 
only  a  few  thousand  inhabitants. 


221 

Among  several  of  the  most  powerful  nations  of 
antiquity,  where  laws  on  the  subject  of  education 
existed,  there  were  no  Public  Schools.  Rome, 
which  so  long  swayed  the  destinies  of  the  world, 
and  at  last,  sunk  to  so  ignominious  a  close,  had 
no  Public  Schools.  Its  schools  were  what  we  call 
Private^ — undertaken  on  speculation,  and  by  any 
person,  however  unsuitable  or  irresponsible. 

Among  the  Jews,  there  seems  to  be  no  evidence 
that  there  were  schools  even  for  boys.  It  is  sup- 
posed that  even  arithmetic  was  not  taught  to  them, 
and  so  universally  was  the  education  of  females 
neglected,  that  even  the  daughters  of  the  priests 
could  not  read  and  write.  Girls,  however,  were 
instructed  in  music  and  dancing. 

The  part  of  education  most  attended  to  by  all 
the  ancient  nations,  was  that  which  tended  to 
strengthen  and  harden  the  body.  Even  this, 
however,  was  hardly  worthy  of  being  called  phys- 
ical education,  because  it  was  conducted  without 
any  competent  notions  of  anatomy  or  physiology. 
As  war  was  the  grand  object  which  nations  pro- 
posed to  themselves,  the  education  of  male  chil- 
dren was  conducted  in  reference  to  their  becom- 
ing soldiers.  In  modern  times  we  have  gone  to 
the  other  extreme, — educating  the  mind,  or  rather 
parts  of  the  mind,  to  the  almost  total  neglect  of 
the  body.  A  striking  illustration  of  these  facts  is, 
that  the  places  appropriated  to  bodily  exercises 
among  the  Greeks,  were  called  Gymnasia  ;  while 
the  Germans,  who  excel  in  the  cultivation  of 
classical  literature,  call  those  schools  wher«  mind 
is  cultivated,  to  the  almost  entire  neglect  of  the 
body,  by  the  same  name.  There  can  be  no  true 
education  without  the  union  of  both. 

The  subject-matter  of  education  was,  of  course, 

very  limited  amongst  all  ancient  nations.     Their 

encyclopaedia  of  knowledge  would  have  been  but 

a  prim^r^  in  size,  compared  with   ours.      The 

19* 


seven  liberal  arts  taught  in  the  celebrated  schools 
of  Alexandria,  in  the*  time  of  our  Savior,  were 
grammar,  rhetoric,  dialectics,  arithmetic,  geometry, 
astronomy,  and  music ;  and  these  constituted  the 
complete  circle  of  liberal  knowledge.  As  elo- 
quence conferred  a  celebrity  inferior  only  to  suc- 
cess in  arms,  it  was  more  assiduously  cultivated 
than  any  of  the  other  studies.  But  rhetoric  gives 
only  a  power  over  men,  while  natural  philosophy 
gives  a  power  over  nature.  In  no  one  respect  is 
the  contrast  or  disparity  between  ancient  and 
modern  times  more  remarkable  than  in  their 
ignorance  of,  and  our  acquaintance  with  the  natu- 
ral sciences. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  pass  unnoticed  a  few 
illustrious  educators  among  the  ancients,  who 
existed,  not  in  accordance  with,  but  in  defiance  of 
the  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  they  lived.  One  of 
the  earliest,  and  probably  the  most  remarkable  of 
these,  was  Pythagoras,  a  Greek,  born  between 
five  and  six  hundred  years  before  Christ.  He 
opened  a  school  in  the  southern  part  of  Italy  ;  and 
proved  the  power  of  education  by  the  results  of 
his  labors.  Under  his  instructions,  his  pupils 
became  men  of  the  most  exemplary  and  noble 
character ;  and  going  out  from  his  school  into  the 
different  cities  of  Magna  Grsecia,  they  effected 
the  most  beneficent  revolutions  in  the  social  rela- 
tions of  life,  and  the  public  institutions  of  society. 
Music  with  him  was  a  prominent  means  of  cul- 
ture. Each  day  began  and  ended  with  songs, 
accompanied  by  the  lyre  or  some  other  instrument. 
Particular  songs,  with  corresponding  metres  and 
tunes,  lively  or  plaintive,  religious  or  mirthful, — 
were  prepared,  as  excitants  or  antidotes  for  par- 
ticular passions  or  emotions. 

Ftlltwing  Pythag#ras,  were  Socrates,  Plato 
and  Aristotle  among  the  Greeks,  and  Quin- 
tilian  among  the  Romans, — great  men,  indeed, 


223 

but  with  not  enough  of  great  men  around  them 
to  correct  their  errors ;  and  hence  it  may  be  ques- 
tioned whether  the  authority  of  their  names  has 
not  propagated,  through  succeeding  times,  more 
of  error  than  of  truth.  This  is  doubtless  true  of 
Aristotle,  if  not  of  some  of  the  rest. 

Little  was  done  by  any  of  the  ancient  nations 
for  the  honor  or  emolument  even  of  the  best  of 
teachers.  We  know  that  Socrates  was  put  to 
death  for  his  excellences ;  and,  according  to  some 
accounts,  Pythagoras  fell  in  a  public  commotion 
which  had  been  raised  by  factious  hostility  to  his 
teachings.  Julius  Caesar  was  the  first  who  pro- 
cured for  Grecian  scholars  an  honorable  reception 
at  Rome,  by  conferring  the  right  of  citizenship 
upon  them.*  Augustus  encouraged  men  of  learn- 
ing by  honorable  distinctions  and  rewards,  and 
exempted  teachers  from  holding  certain  public 
offices;  but,  at  one  time,  a  hundred  and  seventy 
years  before  Christ,  Grecian  philosophers  and 
rhetoricians  were  expelled  from  Rome  by  a  decree 
of  the  censors. 

Quintilian,  one  of  the  most  eminent  and  suc- 
cessful of  teachers,  is  supposed  to  have  been  the 
first,  and  perhaps  the  only  one,  among  the  an- 
cients, who  disused  and  condemned  whipping  in 
school ;  but  his  power  seems,  for  many  centuries,  to 
have  been  among  the  lost  arts.  He  taught  in  the 
last  half  of  the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era. 

Scattered  up  and  down, — but  with  vast  inter- 
vals,— among  Grecian  and  Roman  writings,  we 
now  and  then  catch  a  glimpse  of  this  multiform 
subject; — as  when  Polybius  speaks  of  the  influ- 
ence of  music  in  refining  the  character  of  the 
Arcadians;  or  when  Horace  says  that  the  culti- 
vation of  the  Fine  Arts  prevents  men  from  degen- 

*  Perhaps  it   n  not  generally  known  that  Julius  Csesar  wrote  a 
Latin  Grammar. 


224 

erating  into  brutes; — but  considering  the  vast 
expanse, — ages  of  time  and  millions  of  minds, — 
over  which  these  few  beams  of  light  were  thrown, 
what  right  have  we  to  say,  that  the  power  and 
the  beneficence  of  education  had  any  opportunity 
to  make  known  their  transforming  and  redeeming 
prerogatives,  in  ancient  times  ? 

It  occurs  to  me  here  to  make  a  single  remark 
in  reference  to  the  limited  number  of  those  who 
enjoyed  the  Eidvantages  of  education,  among  the 
ancients.  I  have  elsewhere  expounded  that  beau- 
tiful law,  in  the  Divine  economy,  by  which  the 
improvement  of  the  society  around  us  is  made 
indispensable  to  our  own  security, — because  no 
man,  living  in  the  midst  of  a  vicious  community, 
can  be  sure  that  all  the  virtuous  influences  which 
he  imparts  to  his  own  children,  will  not  be  neu- 
tralized and  lost,  by  the  counter  influences  exerted 
upon  them  by  others.  The  sons  of  Themistocles, 
Aristides,  Pericles,  Thucydides,  and  even  of  Soc- 
rates himself,  were  contaminated  by  the  corrup- 
tions of  the  times,  and  thus  defeated  their  paternal 
hopes.  The  parent  who  wishes  to  bring  up  his 
own  children  well,  but  refuses  to  do  all  in  his 
power  to  perfect  the  common,  educational  institu- 
tions around  him,  should  go  with  his  family  into 
voluntary  exile, — he  should  fly  to  some  Juan 
Fernandez,  where  no  contagion  of  others'  vices 
can  invade  his  solitude  and  defeat  his  care. 

Shortly  after  the  commencement  of  the  Chris- 
tian era,  all  idea  of  general  popular  education, 
and  almost  all  correct  notions  concerning  educa- 
tion itself,  died  out  of  the  minds  of  men.  A 
gloomy  and  terrible  period  succeeded,  which 
lasted  a  thousand  years, — a  sixth  part  of  the  past 
duration  of  the  race  of  men !  Approaching  this 
period  from  the  side  of  antiquity,  or  going  back 
to  view  it  from  our  own  age,  we  come,  as  it  were, 
to  the  borders  of  a  great  Gulf  of  Despair.     Gazing 


225 

down  from  the  brink  of  this  remorseless  abyss, 
we  behold  a  spectacle  resembling  rather  the  mad- 
dest orgies  of  demons,  than  any  deeds  of  men. 
Oppression  usurped  the  civil  throne.  Persecution 
seized  upon  the  holy  altar.  Rulers  demanded 
the  unconditional  submission  of  body  and  soul, 
and  sent  forth  ministers  of  fire  and  sword  to 
destroy  what  they  could  not  enslave.  Inno- 
cence changed  places  with  guilt,  and  bore  all  its 
penalties.  Even  remorse  seems  to  have  died  from 
out  the  souls  of  men.  As  high  as  the  halls  of  the 
regal  castle  rose  into  the  air,  so  deep  beneath  were 
excavated  the  dungeons  of  the  victim,  into  which 
hope  never  came.  By  the  side  of  the  magnificent 
Cathedral  was  built  the  Inquisition ;  and  all  those 
who  would  not  enter  the  former,  and  bow  the  soul, 
in  homage  to  men,  were  doomed  by  the  latter 
to  have  the  body  broken  or  burned.  All  that 
power,  wealth,  arts,  civilization  had  conferred 
upon  the  old  world, — even  new-born,  divine  Chris- 
tianity itself, — were  converted  into  instruments  of 
physical  bondage  and  spiritual  degradation.  These 
centuries  have  been  falsely  called  the  Dark  Ages  ; 
they  were  not  dark;  they  glare  out  more  conspicu- 
ously than  any  other  ages  of  the  world ;  but,  alas  ! 
they  glare  with  infernal  fires ! 

What  could  education  do  in  such  an  age  ? 
Nothing !  nothing !  Its  voice  was  hushed ;  its 
animation  was  suspended.  It  must  await  the 
revival  of  letters,  the  art  of  printing,  and  other 
great  revolutions  in  the  affairs  of  the  world, 
before  it  could  hope  to  obtain  audience  among 
men. 

In  the  Augustan  age  of  English  literature, — in 
the  days  of  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  Swift,  Pope, 
Addison, — in  all  the  beautiful  writings  of  these 
great  men,  almost  nothing  is  said  on  the  subject 
of  education.     Not  any  where  is  there  a  single 


226 

expression  showing  that  they,  or  either  of  them, 
had  any  just  conception  of  its  different  depart- 
ments, and  of  the  various  and  distinct  processes 
by  which  the  work  of  each  is  to  be  carried  on. 
Dr.  Johnson  has  a  few  paragraphs,  scattered  up 
and  down  over  his  voluminous  writings ;  but  by 
far  the  most  labored  passage  he  ever  prepared  on 
the  subject,  was  a  forensic  argument  for  Boswell, 
defending  the  brutal  infliction  of  corporal  punish- 
ment so  common  in  those  days.  To  show  the 
opinion  of  this  great  man  respecting  the  propriety 
of  giving  an  education  to  the  laboring  and  poor 
classes,  let  me  quote  a  sentence  or  two  from  his 
^'Review  of  Free  Inquiry." 

"  I  know  not  whether  there  are  not  many  states 
of  life,  in  which  all  knowledge  less  than  the  highest 
wisdom  loill  'produce  discontent  and  danger.  I 
believe  it  may  be  sometimes  found  that  a  little 
learning  to  a  poor  man  is  a  dangerous  thing. ^'' 

"  Though  it  should  be  granted  that  those  who 
are  born  to  poverty  and  drudgery  should  not  be 
deprived  by  an  improper  education  of  the  opiate  of 
ignorance^  yet,"  &c. 

One  of  these  expressions  of  Dr.  Johnson  seems 
to  have  been  caught  from  a  celebrated  couplet  of 
Pope  : 

"  A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing, 
Drink  deep  or  taste  not  the  Pierian  spring  ; 
There,  shallow  draughts  intoxicate  tne  brain, 
But  drinking  deeper  sobers  us  again." 

One  would  like  to  know  what  extent  of  acquired 
knowledge  would  constitute  '■^deep  drinking^''^  in 
the  sense  of  this  authority;  or,  in  surveying  the 
vastness  of  the  works  of  God,  whether  all  that 
Pope  himself  knew,  though  it  were  multiplied  a 
hundred  fold,  would  not  be  "  a  dangerous  thing." 
The  doctrine  of  this  passage  is  as  false  in  the  eye 
of  reason,  as  the  simile  is  in  the  creed  of  a  tee- 
totaller ! 


227 

Pope  has  another  oft-quoted  passage,  in  the  last 
line  of  which,  namely  , — 

"  Just  as  the  twig  is  bent,  the  tree 's  inclined," — 

he  uses  the  word  "twig"  in  a  false  sense,  as  it 
properly  means  the  end  of  a  limb,  and  not  the 
stem  or  shoot  which  expands  into  a  tree.  In 
this  he  was  probably  misled  by  the  strength  of 
his  associations,  because  the  twigs,  or  ends  of 
limbs,  performed  so  important  a  part  in  the  work 
of  education  in  his  day,  that  they  had  become  to 
him  the  type  and  symbol  of  the  whole  process. 
At  the  most,  Pope  merely  symbolizes  the  general 
truth  ;  he  nowhere  proposes  to  tell  us  what  modes 
or  processes  of  cultivation,  will  stimulate  its 
aspiring  tendencies,  or  bow  it  downwards  to  the 
earth ; — he  never  pretends  to  instruct  us  how  the 
tiny  germ  just  breaking  from  the  shell,  or  the 
tender  shoot  just  peering  from  the  earth,  may  be 
reared  into  the  lofty  tree,  bearing  a  forest-like 
crown  of  branches  upon  its'  top,  and  having  limbs 
and  trunk  of  such  raassiveness  and  cohesive 
strength,  that  they  will  toss  off  the  storm  and  sur- 
vive the  thunderbolt. 

In  one  of  the  numbers  of  the  Spectator,  Addison 
compares  the  qualities  of  different  dispositions  to 
different  kinds  of  flowers  in  a  garden ;  but  the 
article  is  short,  and  was  written  for  humor  rather 
than  for  instruction. 

Shakspeare  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  the  repulsive 
aspects  of  educational  means,  in  his  time,  when  he 
describes  the  child  as  "creeping,  like  snail,  un- 
willingly to  school." 

Shenstone  makes  himself  merry  with  the  toils 
and  privations,  and  homely  manners  of  a  school 
dame. 

Goldsmith  describes  a  schoolmaster  as  an  arbi- 
trary, tyrannical,  storm-faced  brute. 

Cowper,  in  his  earnest   appeals,   preferred   in 


228 

behalf  of  the  private  tutors  of  gentlemen^ s  sons, 
gives  us  the  following  glimpses  of  the  indignities 
to  which  they  were  customarily  subjected  in  his 
day: 

"  Doom  hvm  not  then  to  solitary  meals, 
But  recollect  that  he  has  sense  and  feels  ; — 
His  post  not  mean,  his  talent  not  unknown, 
He  deems  it  hard  to  vegetate  alone. 
And  if  admitted  at  thy  board  to  sit,  ♦ 

)  Account  him  no  jvst  mark  for  idle  wit  i 

Offend  not  him,  whom  modesty  restrains 
From  repartee,  with  jokes  that  he  disdains  ; 
Much  less  transfix  his  feelings  with  an  oath, 
Nor  frown,  urdess  he  vanish  with  the  doth." 

Sir  Walter  Scott  gathers  all  ungainliness  of  per- 
son, and  awkwardness  of  manner,  and  sloven- 
liness of  dress,  into  one  person,  makes  him  horrid 
with  superstition  and  pedantry,  and  names  the 
pedagogue  Dominie  Sampson.  Even  in  his  sober 
moments,  when  expressing  his  own  thoughts, 
rather  than  bodying  forth  the  common  idea  of  the 
times,  he  says  of  Dr.  Adam,  the  learned  author  of 
the  "  Roman  Antiquities,"  that,  "  He  was  deeply 
imbued  with  that  fortunate  vanity  which  alone 
could  induce  a  man,  who  has  arms  to  pare  and 
burn  a  muir.  to  submit  to  the  still  more  toilsom,e 
task  of  cultivating  youth.^^ 

In  some  admirable  essays  lately  written  in  Eng- 
land, for  an  educational  prize,  the  condition  of  the 
school  teacher  is  represented  as  being  below  that 
of  menial  servants,  throughout  the  kingdom  of 
Great  Britain.* 

Milton,  it  is  true,  wrote  a  short  tract  on  educa- 
tion, beautiful  to  read,  but  wholly  destitute  of 

*  I  find  the  following:  pointed  remark,  in  a  lecture  delivered  before 
the  American  Institute  of  Instruction,  at  Pittsfield,  in  1843,  by  R.  B. 
Hubbard,  Esq.,  the  accomplished  Principal  of  the  High  School  at 
Worcester,  Mass. : — "The  meed  of  praise  has  been  very  liberally  and 
justly  awarded  to  Washington  Irving  for  his  valuable  contributions 
to  our  scanty  stock  of  polite  literature  ;  yet  it  may  well  be  questioned, 
whether  the  injury  done  to  the  cause  of  common  education,  in  the 
character  of  Ichabod  Crane,  has  not  more  than  cancelled  the  whole 
debt." 


229 

practical  instruction ;  and  it  would  be  unpardon- 
able to  pass  by  that  admirable  treatise,  Locke's 
"Thoughts  on  Education;" — but  while  his  sys- 
tem of  metaphysics,  which  is  the  poorest  of  all 
his  works,  has  been  made  a  text-book  both  in  the 
imiversities  of  England  and  America,  this  excel- 
lent treatise,  which  is  by  far  better  than  any  thing 
which  had  ever  then  been  written,  has  been  almost 
wholly  neglected  and  forgotten. 

Consider,  too,  my  friends,  another  general  but 
decisive  fact,  showing  in  what  subordinate  esti- 
mation this  paramount  subject  has  been  held. 
The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  that  it  can- 
not embrace  any  great  idea,  but,  forthwith,  all 
the  faculties  strive  to  aggrandize  and  adorn  and 
dignify  it.  Let  any  principle  or  sentiment  be 
elevated  by  the  public  voice, — whether  rightfully 
or  wrongfully, — to  a  station  of  preeminence  or 
grandeur,  in  the  eyes  of  men,  and  it  is  at  once 
personified,  and,  as  it  were,  consecrated.  The 
arts  go,  as  on  a  pilgrimage,  to  do  it  reverence. 
Music  celebrates  it  in  national  songs.  Sculpture 
embodies  it  in  enduring  substance,  and  clothes  it 
in  impressive  forms.  Painting  catches  each  flash- 
ing beam  of  inspiration  from  its  look,  transfers  it 
to  her  canvass,  and  holds  it  fast  for  centuries,  in 
her  magic  coloring.  Architecture  rears  temples 
for  its  residence  and  shrines  for  its  worship.  Re- 
ligion sanctifies  it.  In  fine,  whatever  is  accounted 
high  or  holy  in  any  age,  all  the  sentiments  of 
taste,  beauty,  imagination,  reverence,  belonging  to 
that  age,  ennoble  it  with  a  priesthood,  deify  its 
founders  or  lawgivers  while  living,  and  grant 
them  apotheosis  and  homage  when  dead.  Such 
proofs  of  veneration  and  love  signalized  the  wor- 
ship of  the  true  God  among  the  Jews,  and  the 
worship  of  false  gods  among  pagans.  Such  devo- 
tion was  paid  to  the  sentiment  of  Beauty  among 
the  Athenians;  to  the  iron-hearted  god  of  War 
20 


230 

among  the  Romans  ;  to  Love  and  knightly  bear- 
ing in  the  age  of  chivalry. 

Without  one  word  from  the  historian,  and  only 
by  studying  a  people's  relics,  and  investigating 
the  figurative  expressions  in  their  literature  and 
law,  one  might  see  reflected,  as  from  a  mirror, 
the  moral  scale  on  which  they  arranged  their 
ideas  of  good  and  great.  Though  history  should 
not  record  a  single  line  in  testimony  of  the  fact, 
yet  who,  a  thousand  years  hence,  could  fail  to 
read,  in  their  symbols,  in  their  forms  of  speech, 
and  in  the  technical  terms  of  their  law,  the 
money-getting,  money-worshipping  tendencies  of 
all  commercial  nations,  during  the  last  and  the 
present  centuries?  The  word  "sovereign,"  we 
know,  means  a  potentate  invested  with  lawful 
dignity  and  authority ;  and  it  implies  subjects 
who  are  bound  to  honor  and  obey.  Hence,  in 
Great  Britain,  a  gold  coin,  worth  twenty  shil- 
lings, is  called  a  ^^  sovereign;^'  and  happy  is  the 
political  sovereign  who  enjoys  such  plenitude  of 
power  and  majesty,  and  has  so  many  loyal  and 
devoted  subjects  as  this  vicegerent  of  royalty. 
An  ancient  English  coin  was  called  an  angel.  Its 
value  was  only  ten  shillings,  and  yet  it  was  named 
after  a  messenger  from  heaven.  In  the  Scriptures, 
and  in  political  law,  a  crown  is  the  emblem  and 
personification  of  might  and  majesty,  of  glory  and 
blessedness.  The  synonyme  of  all  these  is  a  piece 
of  silver  worth  six  shillings  and  seven  pence.  As 
the  king  has  his  representative  in  a  sovereign,  so 
a  duke  has  his  in  a  ducat, — the  inferior  value  of 
the  latter  corresponding  with  the  inferior  dignity 
of  its  archetype.  As  Napoleon  was  considered 
the  mightiest  ruler  that  France  ever  knew,  so,  for 
many  years,  her  highest  com  was  called  a  Napo- 
leon;  though  now,  in  the  French  mint,  they  strike 
double-Napoleons.  God  grant  that  the  world  may 
never  see  a  double-Napoleon  of  flesh  and  blood  ! 


231 

Our  forefathers  subjected  themselves  to  every 
worldly  privation  for  the  sake  of  liberty, — and 
when  they  had  heroically  endured  toil  and  sacri- 
fice for  eight  long  years, — and  at  last  achieved 
the  blessing  of  independence, — they  showed  their 
veneration  for  the  Genius  of  Liberty  by  placing 
its  image  and  superscription — upon  a  cejit! 

So,  too,  in  our  times,  epithets  the  most  distinc- 
tively sacred,  are  tainted  with  cupidity.  Mam- 
mon is  not  satisfied  with  the  heart-worship  of  his 
devotees ;  he  has  stolen  the  very  language  of  the 
Bible  and  the  Liturgy ;  and  the  cardinal  words 
of  the  sanctuary  have  become  the  business  phrase- 
ology of  bankers,  exchange-brokers,  and  lawyers. 
The  word  "good,"  as  applied  to  character,  origi- 
nally meant  benevolent,  virtuous,  devout,  pious  ; — 
now,  in  the  universal  dialect  of  traffic  and  credit, 
a  man  is  technically  called  good  who  pays  his 
notes  at  maturity ;  and  thus,  this  almost  divine 
epithet  is  transferred  from  those  who  laid  up  their 
treasures  in  heaven,  to  such  as  lay  up  their  treas- 
ures on  earth.  The  three  days'  respite  which  the 
law  allows  for  the  payment  of  a  promissory  note 
or  bill  of  exchange,  after  the  stipulated  period  has 
expired,  is  called  '-''  grace^^  in  irreverent  imitation 
of  the  sinner's  chance  for  pardon.  On  the  per- 
formance of  a  broken  covenant,  by  which  a  mort- 
gaged estate  is  saved  from  forfeiture,  it  is  said,  in 
the  technical  language  of  the  law,  to  be  saVed 
by  "  rcrfemp^iow."  The  document  by  which  a 
deceased  man's  estate  is  bequeathed  to  his  survi- 
vors, is  called  a  testament;  and  were  the  glad 
tidings  of  the  New  Testament  looked  for  as  anx- 
iously as  are  the  contents  of  a  rich  man's  last  will 
and  testament,  there  would  be  no  further  occasion 
for  the  Bible  Societies.  Indeed,  on  opening  some  of 
our  law-books,  and  casting  the  eye  along  the  run- 
ning-titles at  the  top  of  the  pages,  or  on  the  margi- 
nal notes,  and  observing  the  frequent  recurrence 


232 

of  such  words  as  "  covenant-broken,"  "  grace," 
"redemption,"  "testament,"  and  so  forth,  one 
might  very  naturally  fall  into  the  mistake  of  sup- 
posing the  book  to  be  a  work  on  theology,  instead 
of  the  law  of  real  estate  or  bank  stock. 

I  group  together  a  few  of  these  extraordinary 
facts,  my  friends,  to  illustrate  the  irresistible 
tendency  of  the  human  mind  to  dignify,  honor, 
elevate,  aggrandize,  and  even  sanctify,  whatever  it 
truly  respects  and  values.  But  education, — that 
synonyme  of  mortal  misery  and  happiness ;  that 
abbreviation  for  earth  and  heaven  and  hell, — 
where  are  the  conscious  or  unconscious  testimo- 
nials to  its  worth?  What  honorable,  laudatory 
epithets ;  what  titles  of  encomium  or  of  dignity 
have  been  bestowed  upon  its  professors?  What, 
save  such  titles  as  pedagogue,  (which,  among  the 
Romans,  from  whom  we  derived  it,  meant  a 
slave,)  and  pedant,  and  knight  of  the  birch  and 
ferule?  What  sincere  or  single  offering  has  it 
received  from  the  hand  or  voice  of  genius  ?  Trav- 
erse the  long  galleries  of  art,  and  you  will  dis- 
cover no  tribute  to  its  worth.  Listen  to  all  the 
great  masters  of  music,  and  you  will  hear  no  swell- 
ing notes  or  chorus  in  its  praise.  Search  all  the 
volumes  of  all  the  poets,  and  you  will  rarely  find 
a  respectful  mention  of  its  claims,  or  even  a  recog- 
nition of  its  existence.  In  sacred  and  devotional 
poetry,  with  which  all  its  higher  attributes  so  inti- 
mately blend  and  harmonize,  it  has  found  no  place. 
As  proof  of  this  extraordinary  fact,  let  me  say  that, 
within  the  last  five  years,  I  have  been  invited  to 
lecture  on  the  subject  of  education,  in  churches 
of  all  the  leading  religious  denominations  of  New 
England  ;  and  perhaps  in  the  majority  of  instances 
the  lecture  has  been  preceded  or  followed  by  the 
devotional  exercises  of  prayer  and  singing.  On 
these  occasions,  probably  every  church  hymn- 
book  belonging  to  every  religious  sect  amongst 


233 

us,  has  been  searched,  in  order  to  find  fitting  and 
appropriate  words,  wherein  to  utter  fitting  and 
appropriate  thoughts  on  this  sacred  theme.  But, 
in  all  cases,  the  search  has  been  made  in  vain.  I 
think  I  hazard  nothing  in  saying  that  there  is  not 
a  single  psalm  or  hymn,  in  any  devotional  book 
of  psalms  and  hymns,  to  be  found  in  our  churches, 
which  presents  the  faintest  outline  of  this  great 
subject,  in  its  social,  moral  and  religious  depart- 
ments, or  in  its  bearing  upon  the  future  happiness 
of  its  objects.  On  these  occasions,  the  officiating 
clergyman  has  looked  through  book  and  index, 
again  and  again,  to  make  a  suitable  selection ;  he 
has  then  handed  the  book  to  me,  and  I  have  done 
the  same, — the  audience  all  the  while  waiting,  and 
wondering  at  the  delay, — and  at  last,  as  our  only 
resource,  we  have  been  obliged  to  select  some 
piece  that  had  the  word  "child"  or  the  word 
"young"  in  it,  and  make  it  do. 

In  contrast  with  this  fact,  think  of  the  size  of  a 
complete  collection  of  Bacchanal  songs,  or  of 
martial  music  ; — these  would  make  libraries ;  but 
the  Muse  of  education  is  yet  to  be  born. 

In  regard  to  all  other  subjects,  histories  have 
been  written.  The  facts  pertaining  to  their  origin 
and  progress  have  been  collected ;  their  principles 
elucidated ;  their  modes  and  processes  detailed. 
As  early  as  the  time  of  Cato,  there  was  the  his- 
tory of  agriculture.  In  modern  times  we  have 
the  history  of  the  silk- worm,  the  history  of  cotton, 
the  history  of  rice  and  of  tobacco,  and  the  history 
of  the  mechanic  arts;  but,  in  the  English  lan- 
guage, we  have  no  history  of  education.  Indeed, 
even  now,  we  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  any 
treatise,  showing  at  what  favoring  hours  the  sen- 
timents of  virtue  should  be  instilled  into  young 
hearts;  or  by  what  processes  of  care  and  nurture, 
or  by  what  neglect,  the  chrysales  of  human  spirits 
are  evolved  into  angels  or  demons. 
20* 


234 

And  while  almost  nothing  has  been  written  or 
taught,  on  this  subject,  by  the  great  guides  and 
dictators  of  the  human  mind;  how  has  it  been 
with  the  lawgivers  of  the  race,  and  the  founders 
of  its  social  and  political  institutions?  Hitherto 
there  has  existed  but  very  little  freedom  of  thought 
and  action  among  mankind.  Laws  and  institu- 
tions have  been  moulds,  wherein  the  minds  of 
men  have  been  cast, — almost  with  mechanical 
precision.  The  reciprocal  action  between  the  in- 
stitutions of  society,  on  the  one  side,  and  the  suc- 
cessive generations  of  men,  on  the  other,  has  been 
this :  The  generations  of  men  have  been  born  into 
institutions  already  prepared  and  consolidated. 
During  their  years  of  minority,  the  institutions 
shaped  their  minds;  and  when  they  arrived  at 
majority,  they  upheld  the  institutions  to  which 
they  had  been  conformed,  and,  in  their  turn,  be- 
queathed them.  Sometimes,  indeed,  a  mighty 
spirit  has  arisen,  too  large  to  be  compressed  within 
the  mould  of  existing  institutions,  or  too  unmal- 
leable  and  infusible  to  be  beaten  or  molten  into 
their  shape.  Then  came  a  death-struggle.  If 
the  institutions  prevailed  over  the  individual,  he 
was  crushed,  annihilated.  If  the  individual  tri- 
umphed in  the  unequal  contest,  he  dashed  the 
mould  of  the  institutions  in  pieces,  prepared  another 
in  his  own  likeness,  and  left  it  behind  him  to 
shape  the  minds  of  coming  generations.  Such 
men  were  Aristotle,  in  regard  to  metaphysics ; 
Alfred,  in  regard  to  law;  Bacon,  in  regard  to 
philosophy  ;  Luther  and  Calvin,  in  regard  to 
religious  faith. 

Both  in  Europe  and  in  this  country,  scientific 
institutions  have  been  founded,  and  illustrious 
men,  during  successive  ages,  have  poured  the 
collected  light  of  their  effulgent  minds  upon  other 
departments  of  science  and  of  art, — upon  lan- 
guage, astronomy,  light,  heat,  electricity,   tides, 


235 

meteors,  and  so  forth,  and  so  forth.  Such  were  the 
Royal  Academy  of  Sciences,  in  Paris,  founded  in 
1660 ;  the  Royal  Society  of  England,  founded  in 
1663  ;  and  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sci- 
ences, founded  in  1780 ; — and  what  ponderous  vol- 
umes of  reports,  essays,  and  transactions,  they  have 
published  !  But  when  or  where  have  a  nation's 
sages  met  in  council,  to  investigate  ihe  principles 
and  to  discuss  the  modes,  by  which  that  most 
difficult  and  delicate  work  upon  earth, — the  edu- 
cation of  a  human  soul, — should  be  conducted? 
Yet  what  is  there  in  philology,  or  the  principles 
of  universal  grammar ;  what  is  there  in  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  tides,  in  the  shooting  of  meteors,  or 
in  the  motions  of  the  planetary  bodies ; — what  is 
there,  in  fine,  in  the  corporeal  and  insensate  ele- 
ments of  the  earth  beneath,  or  of  the  firmament 
above,  at  all  comparable  in  importance  to  those 
laws  of  growth  and  that  course  of  training, 
by  which  the  destiny  of  mortal  and  immortal 
spirits  is  at  least  foretokened,  if  not  foredoomed? 

So,  too,  in  regard  to  those  ancient  and  renowned 
literary  institutions,  which  have  been  established 
and  upheld  by  the  foremost  nations  of  Christen- 
dom;— the  Sorbonne  in  France;  the  universities 
of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  and  Edinburgh,  in 
Great  Britain  ;  and  the  universities  and  colleges 
of  this  country; — the  grand  object  of  all  these 
institutions  has  been, — not  to  educate  the  general, 
the  common  mass  of  mind, — but  to  rear  up  men 
for  the  three  learned  professions,  (as  they  are 
called,)  Physic,  Law,  and  Divinity.  For  this 
comparatively  narrow  and  special  purpose,  vast 
legislative  endowments  and  munificent  private 
donations  have  been  made,  and  the  highest  talents 
have  been  culled  from  the  community,  for  presi- 
dentships and  professorships. 

The  three  learned  professions,  it  is  true,  repre- 
sent the  three  great  departments  of  human  inter- 


236 

ests ; — the  Medical  representing  the  body,  or  cor- 
poreal part,  through  whose  instrumentality  alone 
can  the  spirit  make  itself  manifest  ; — the  Legal 
profession  being  designed  to  establish  social  rights 
and  to  redress  social  wrongs,  in  regard  to  prop- 
erty, person  and  character ; — and  the  Theological 
to  guide  and  counsel  us,  in  regard  to  our  moral 
and  religious  concernments  both  for  time  and  for 
eternity.  But  all  the  learning  of  all  the  profes- 
sions can  never  be  an  adequate  substitute  for 
common  knowledge,  or  remedy  for  common  igno- 
rance. These  professions  are  necessary  for  our 
general  enlightenment,  for  guidance  in  difficult 
cases,  and  for  counsel  at  all  times  ;  but  they 
never  should  aim  to  supercede,  they  never  can 
supersede  our  own  individual  care,  forethought, 
judgment,  responsibility.  Yet,  how  little  is  this 
truth  regarded  !  How  imperfectly  do  we  live  up 
to  its  requirements !  In  respect  to  the  medical 
profession,  we  are  this  year,  this  day,  and  every 
day,  sending  young  men  to  college,  and  from  col- 
lege to  the  medical  school,  that  they  may  acquire 
some  knowledge  of  human  diseases  and  their 
remedies ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  we  are  neglect- 
ing to  educate  and  train  our  children  in  accord- 
ance with  the  few  and  simple  laws  upon  which 
health  depends,  and  which  every  child  might  be 
easily  led  to  know  and  to  observe ; — and  the  con- 
sequence is,  that  we  are  this  year,  this  day  and 
every  day,  sowing,  in  the  constitutions  of  our 
children,  the  seeds  of  innumerable  diseases;  so 
that  the  diseases  will  be  ready  for  the  doctors 
quite  as  soon  as  the  doctors  are  ready  for  the  dis- 
eases. Indeed,  before  the  doctor  confronts  the 
disease,  or  while  he  is  pondering  over  it,  how 
often  does  death  step  in  and  snatch  the  victim 
away. 

At  what  vast  expense,  both  of  time  and  money, 
is  the  legal  profession  trained,  and  the  judicial 


237 

tribunals  of  the  land  supported.  Two  or  three, 
or  half  a  dozen  years,  spent  in  preparing  for  col- 
lege, four  years  at  college,  and  two  or  three  years 
2t  a  law  school,  or  elsewhere,  as  a  qualification 
to  practise  in  the  courts;  then,  the  maintenance 
of  the  courts  themselves ;  the  salaries  of  judges, 
and  of  prosecuting  officers ;  the  expense  of  jurors, 
grand-jurors  and  witnesses ;  the  amount  of  costs 
and  counsel  fees  ;  the  vast  outlay  for  prisons,  jails, 
and  houses  of  correction ; — and  all  this  enormous 
expenditure,  in  order  to  adjust  disputes,  rectify 
mistakes,  and  punish  offences,  nine  tenths  of 
which  would  have  been  prevented,  by  a  degree 
of  common  knowledge  easily  taught,  and  of  com- 
mon honesty,  to  which  all  children,  with  scarcely 
an  exception,  might  be  trained. 

When  the  law  of  hereditary  distempers  shall  be 
as  profoundly  investigated  as  the  law  which  regu- 
lates the  hereditary  transmission  of  property,  then 
may  we  expect  some  improvement  in  the  health 
and  robustness  and  beauty  of  the  race.  Compare 
all  the  books  written  on  the  transmission  from 
parents  to  children  of  physical  or  moral  qualities, 
with  the  law-books  and  treatises  on  the  descent 
of  estates.  When  will  the  current  of  public  opin^* 
ion,  or  the  stimulus  of  professional  emolument 
create  a  desire  to  understand  the  irreversible  ordi- 
nances and  statutes  of  Nature,  on  this  class  of 
subjects,  as  strong  as  that  which  now  carries  » 
student  at  law  through  Fearne  on  Contingent  Re- 
mainders ? — a  book  which  requires  the  same  fac- 
ulty for  divining  ideas,  that  Champollion  had  foi 
deciphering  Egyptian  Hieroglyphics. 

And  how  is  it  with  the  clerical  pr.-^fession  1 
They  enter  upon  the  work  of  reforming  the  hu- 
man character, — not  at  the  earlier  stages  of  its 
development, — but  when  it  has  arrived  at,  or  is 
approaching  to,  its  maturity ; — a  period,  when,  by 
universal  consent,  it  has  become  almost  unchange- 


238 

able  by  secondary  causes.  They  are  reformers, 
I  admit,  but  in  regard  to  any  thing  that  grows, 
one  right  former  will  accompUsh  more  than  a 
thousand  re-formers.  It  is  their  sacred  mission  to 
prepare  a  vineyard  for  the  Lord,  to  dress  it,  and 
make  it  fruitful ;  but  I  think  no  one  will  say  that 
an  army  of  laborers,  sent  into  a  vineyard  at  mid- 
summer, when  brambles  and  thorns  have  already 
choked  the  vines,  and  the  hedges  have  been  broken 
down,  and  the  unclean  beasts  of  the  forest  have 
made  their  lair  therein ; — I  think  no  one  will  say 
that  an  army  of  laborers,  entering  the  vineyard  at 
such  a  time,  will  be  able  to  make  it  yield  so  abun- 
dant a  harvest  as  one  faithful,  skilful  servant 
would  do,  who  should  commence  his  labors  in  the 
spring-time  of  the  year. 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  makes  no 
provision  for  the  education  of  the  people ;  and  in 
the  Convention  that  framed  it,  I  believe  the  sub- 
ject was  not  even  mentioned.  A  motion  to  insert 
a  clause  providing  for  the  establishment  of  a 
national  university,  was  voted  down.  I  believe 
it  is  also  the  fact,  that  the  Constitutions  of  only 
three  of  the  thirteen  original  States  made  the  obli- 
gation to  maintain  a  system  of  Free  Schools  a 
part  of  their  fundamental  law. 

On  what  grounds  of  reason  or  of  hope,  it  may 
well  be  asked,  did  the  framers  of  our  National  and 
State  Constitutions  expect,  that  the  future  citizens 
of  this  Republic  would  be  able  to  sustain  the  in- 
stitutions, or  to  enjoy  the  blessings,  provided  for 
them?  And  has  not  all  our  subsequent  history 
shown  the  calamitous  consequences  of  their  fail- 
ing to  make  provision  for  the  educational  wants 
of  the  nation?  Suppose  it  had  been  provided, 
that  no  person  should  be  a  voter  who  could  not 
read  and  write,  and  also  that  no  State  should 
be  admitted  into  the  Union  which  had  not  estab- 
lished a  system  of  Free  Schools  for  all  its  people  j 


239 

would  not  our  National  history  and  legisla- 
tion, our  State  administrations  and  policy,  have 
felt  the  change  through  all  their  annals?  Great 
and  good  men,  though  they  were,  yet  this  truth, 
now  so  plain  and  conspicuous,  eluded  their  sagac- 
ity. They  did  not  reflect  that,  in  the  common 
course  of  nature,  all  the  learned  and  the  wise  and 
the  virtuous  are  swept  from  the  stage  of  action, 
almost  as  soon  as  they  become  learned  and  wise 
and  virtuous ;  and  that  they  are  succeeded  by  a 
generation  who  come  into  the  world  wholly 
devoid  of  learning  and  wisdom  and  virtue.  The 
parents  may  have  sought  out  the  sublimest  truths, 
but  these  truths  are  nothing  to  the  children,  until 
their  minds  also  shall  have  been  raised  to  the 
power  of  grasping  and  of  understanding  them. 
The  truths,  indeed,  are  immortal,  but  the  beings 
who  may  embrace  them  are  mortal,  and  pass 
away,  to  be  followed  by  new  minds,  ignorant, 
weak,  erring,  tossed  hither  and  thither  on  the 
waves  of  passion.  Hence,  each  new  generation 
must  learn  all  truth  anew,  and  for  itself  Each 
generation  must  be  able  to  comprehend  the  prin- 
ciples, and  must  rise  to  the  practice  of  the  virtues, 
requisite  to  sustain  the  position  of  their  ancestors; 
and  the  first  generation  which  fails  to  do  this, 
loses  all,  and  comes  to  ruin  not  only  for  itself  but 
for  its  successors. 

At  what  time,  then,  by  virtue  of  what  means, 
is  the  new  generation  to  become  competent  to 
take  upon  itself  the  duties  of  the  old  and  retiring 
one?  At  which  of  Shakspeare's  "Seven  Ages,'^ 
is  the  new  generation  expected  to  possess  the  abil- 
ity to  stand  in  the  places  of  the  departed  7  Allow 
that  the  vast  concerns  of  our  society  must  be  sub- 
mitted to  a  democracy, — still,  shall  they  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  democracy  of  babyhood, — to  those 
whose  country,  as  yet,  is  the  cradle,  and  whose 
universe,  the  nursery?    Can  you  call  in  children 


240 

from  trundling  hoops  and  catching  butterflies, 
organize  them  into  "Young  Men's  Conventions," 
and  propound  for  their  decision  the  great  ques- 
tions of  judicature  and  legislation,  of  civil,  domes- 
tic, and  foreign  policy  ?  Or,  will  you  take  the 
youth  of  the  land,  from  sixteen  to  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  in  the  heyday  of  their  blood,  with 
passions  unappeasable  in  their  cry  for  indulgence, 
and  unquenchable  by  it;  without  experience, 
without  sobriety  of  judgment;  whose  only  notions 
of  the  complex  structure  of  our  government  and 
of  its  various  and  delicate  relations,  have  been 
derived  from  hearing  a  Fourth  of  July  Oration ; 
with  no  knowledge  of  this  multiform  world  into 
which  they  have  been  brought,  or  of  their  dan- 
gers, duties  and  destiny,  as  men, — in  one  word, 
with  no  education, — and  is  it  to  such  as  these 
that  the  vast  concernments  of  a  nation's  well- 
being  can  be  safely  intrusted  7  Safer,  far  safer, 
would  it  be  to  decide  the  great  problems  of  legis- 
lation and  jurisprudence,  by  a  throw  of  dice;  or, 
like  the  old  Roman  soothsayers,  by  the  flight  of 
birds.  And  even  after  one  has  passed  the  age  of 
twenty-one,  how  is  he  any  better  fitted  than  before 
to  perform  the  duties  of  a  citizen,  if  no  addition 
has  been  made  to  his  knowledge,  and  if  his  pas- 
sions have  not  been  subjected  to  the  control  of 
reason  and  duty? 

I  adduce  these  extraordinary  facts,  in  relation 
to  the  founders  of  our  Republic,  not  in  any  spirit 
of  disparagement  or  reprehension,  but  only  as 
another  proof  in  the  chain  of  demonstration,  to 
show  in  what  relative  esteem, — how  low  down  in 
the  social  scale,  this  highest  of  all  earthly  subjects 
has  been  held, — and  held  in  a  Republic  too,  where 
we  talk  so  much  about  foundations  of  knowledge 
and  virtue. 

And  what  was  the  first  school  established  by 
Congress,  after  the  formation  of  the  general  gov- 


241 

erament  ?  It  was  the  Military  Academy  at  West 
Point.  This  school  is  sustained  at  an  annual 
expense  of  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
It  is  the  Normal  School  of  War.  As  the  object 
of  the  common  Normal  School  is  to  teach  teachers 
how  to  teach ;  so  the  object  of  this  Academy  is 
to  teach  killers  how  to  kill.  At  this  school,  those 
delightful  sciences  are  pursued  which  direct  at 
what  precise  angle  a  cannon  or  a  mortar  shall  be 
elevated,  and  what  quantity  and  quality  of  gun- 
powder shall  be  used,  in  order  to  throw  red-hot 
balls  or  bomb-shells  a  given  distance,  so  as,  by 
the  one,  to  set  a  city  on  fire,  and,  by  the  other,  to 
tear  in  pieces  a  platoon  of  men, — husbands, 
brothers,  fathers.  And  while  it  is  thought  of  suf- 
ficient importance  to  nominate  the  most  learned 
men  in  the  whole  land,  and  to  assemble  them 
from  the  remotest  quarters  of  the  Union,  to  make 
an  annual  visit  to  this  School  of  War,  and  to 
spend  days  and  days  in  the  minutest,  severest 
examination  of  the  pupils,  to  see  if  they  have 
fully  mastered  their  death-dealing  sciences ;  it  is 
not  uncommon  to  meet  with  the  opinion  that  our 
Common  Schools  need  no  committees  and  no 
examination. 

Great  efforts  have  been  made  in  Congress  to 
establish  a  Naval  School,  having  in  view  the 
same  benign  and  philanthropic  purposes,  for  the 
ocean,  which  the  Military  School  has  for  the 
land. 

At  Old  Point  Comfort,  in  Virginia,  there  now 
is,  and  for  a  long  time  has  been,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  the  general  government,  what  is  called  a 
"School  for  Practice,"  where  daily  experiments 
are  tried  to  test  the  strength  of  ordnance,  the 
explosive  force  of  gunpowder,  and  the  distance  at 
which  a  Christian  may  fire  at  his  brother  Chris- 
tian and  be  sure  to  kill  him,  and  not  waste  his 
ammunition  ! 

21 


242 

At  selected  points,  throughout  our  whole  coun- 
try, the  thousand  wheels  of  mechanism  are  now 
playing;  chemistry  is  at  work  in  all  her  labora- 
tories ;  the  smelter,  the  forger,  the  founder  in 
brass  and  iron,  the  prover  of  arms, — all  are  plying 
their  daily  tasks  to  prepare  implements  for  the 
conflagration  of  cities  and  the  destruction  of 
human  life.  Occasionally,  indeed,  a  Peace  Society 
is  organized;  a  few  benevolent  men  assemble 
together  to  hear  a  discourse  on  the  universal 
brotherhood  of  the  race,  the  horrors  of  war  and 
the  blessings  of  peace  ;  but  their  accents  are  lost 
in  an  hour,  amid  the  never-ceasing  din  and  roar 
of  this  martial  enginery.  And  so  the  order  and 
course  of  things  will  persist  to  be, — the  ministers 
of  the  Gospel  of  Peace  may  continue  to  preach 
peace  for  eighteen  centuries  more,  and  still  find 
themselves  in  the  midst  of  war',  or  of  all  those 
passions  by  which  war  is  engendered,  unless  the 
rising  generation  shall  be  educated  to  that  strength 
and  sobriety  of  intellect  which  shall  dispel  the 
insane  illusions  of  martial  glory  ;  and  unless  they 
shall  be  trained  to  the  habitual  exercise  of  those 
sentiments  of  universal  brotherhood  for  the  race, 
which  shall  change  the  common  heroism  of  battle 
into  a  horror  and  an  abomination. 

A  deputation  of  some  of  the  most  talented  and 
learned  men  of  this  country,  has  lately  been  sent 
to  Europe,  by  the  order  and  at  the  expense  of  the 
general  government,  to  visit  and  examine  per- 
sonally, all  the  founderies,  armories  and  noted 
fortifications,  from  Gibraltar  to  the  Baltic; — to 
collect  all  knowledge  about  the  forging  of  iron 
cannon  and  brass  cannon,  the  tempering  of  swords, 
the  management  of  steam-batteries,  and  so  forth, 
and  so  forth, — to  bring  this  knowledge  home,  that 
our  government  may  be  instructed  and  enlight- 
ened in  the  art — to  kill.  I  have  not  heard  that 
Congress  proposes  to  establish  any  Normal  School, 


243 

the  immediate  or  the  remote  object  of  which  shall 
be  to  teach  "peace  on  earth  and  good  will  to 
men."  "  Go  ye  out  into  every  nation  and  preach 
the  gospel  to  every  creature,"  has  hitherto  been 
practically  translated,  "  Go  ye  out  into  every 
nation  and  kill  or  rob  every  creature."  We  are 
told  that  a  celestial  choir  once  winged  its  way 
from  heaven  to  earth,  on  an  errand  of  mercy  and 
love ;  but  for  the  communication  of  that  message 
which  burned  in  their  hearts  and  melted  from 
their  tongues,  they  sought  out  no  lengthened  epic 
or  long  resounding  paean; — they  chanted  only 
that  brief  and  simple  strain,  "  Peace  on  earth  and 
good  will  to  men,"  as  if  to  assure  us  that  these 
were  the  selectest  words  in  the  dialect  of  heaven, 
and  the  choicest  beat  in  all  its  music.  But  long 
since  have  these  notes  died  away.  O,  when  shall 
that  song  be  renewed,  and  every  tongue  and  na- 
tion upon  earth  unite  their  voices  with  those  of 
angels  in  uplifting  the  heavenly  strain  ! 

Again  I  say,  my  friends,  that  the  arraignment 
and  denunciation  of  men  is  no  part  of  my  present 
purpose.  1  advert  to  these  world-known  facts, 
for  the  sole  and  simple  object  of  showing  how  the 
subject  of  education  stands,  and  has  stood,  in 
prosaic  and  poetic  literature,  in  the  refining  arts, 
in  history,  and  in  the  laws,  institutions  and  opin- 
ions of  men.  I  wish  hereby  to  show  its  relative 
degradation,  the  inferiority  of  the  rank  assigned 
to  it,  as  compared  with  all  other  interests,  or  with 
any  other  interest;  and  thus  to  exhibit  the  true 
reasons  why,  as  yet,  it  has  done  so  little  for  the 
renovation  of  the  world.  I  have  spoken  only  of 
the  general  current  of  events,  of  opinions  and  of 
practices  common  to  mankind.  In  our  own  times, 
in  such  low  estimation  is  this  highest  of  all  causes 
held,  that  in  these  days  of  conventions  for  all 
other  objects  of  public  interest, — when  men  go 
hundreds  of  miles  to  attend  rail-road  conventions. 


244 

and  cotton  conventions,  and  tobacco  conventions ; 
and  when  the  delegates  of  political  conventions^ 
are  sometimes  counted,  as  Xerxes  counted  his 
army,  by  acres  and  square  miles, — yet  such  has 
often  been  the  dispersive  effect  upon  the  public  of 
announcing  a  Common  School  Convention,  and  a 
Lecture  on  Education,  that  I  have  queried  in  my 
own  mind  whether,  in  regard  to  two  or  three 
counties,  at  least,  in  our  own  State,  it  would  not 
be  advisable  to  alter  the  law  for  quelling  riots  and 
mobs;  and,  instead  of  summoning  sheriffs  and 
armed  magistrates  and  the  posse  comitatus  for 
their  dispersion,  to  put  them  to  flight  by  making 
proclamation  of  a  Discourse  on  Common  Schools. 

When  we  reflect  upon  all  this,  what  surprises 
and  grieves  us  most  is,  that  so  few  men  are  sur- 
prised or  grieved. 

It  has  been  my  fortune,  within  the  last  few 
years,  to  visit  schools  in  many  of  our  sister  States ; 
and  I  have  spared  no  efforts  to  make  myself 
acquainted  with  the  general  system, — so  far  as  any 
system  exists, — adopted  in  them  all.  Although 
in  one  or  two  States  the  general  plan  of  Public 
Instruction,  owing  to  its  more  recent  establish- 
ment, may  have  a  few  advantages  over  our  own, 
yet  there  is  not  a  single  State  in  the  Union  whose 
whole  system  is  at  all  comparable  to  that  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, whether  we  consider  its  extent,  its  effi- 
ciency, or  the  general  intelligence  with  which  it 
is  administered  by  the  local  authorities.f     Dis- 

*  It  was  said  that  at  the  Young  Men's  Whig  Convention,  held  at 
Baltimore,  in  May,  1844,  there  vreve  forty  thousand  delegates  in  attend- 
ance. 

1 1  believe  this  statement  to  have  been  strictly  true  at  the  time 
when  it  was  written,  (1841.)  But,  in  some  respects,  it  is  no  longer 
so.  As  it  regards  efficiency,  and  the  means  of  rapid  improvement,  to 
say  no  more,  the  system  of  the  Slate  of  New  York  now  takes  prece- 
dence of  any  in  the  Union.  In  addition  to  a  State  Superintendent  of 
Common  Schools,  whose  jurisdiction  extends  over  them  all,  there  are 
one  or  more  Deputy  Superintendents  in  each  county,  whose  time  is 
devoted  to  a  visitation  of  the  schools,  to  lecturing  and  ditFusing  infor- 
mation among  the  people,  and  so  forth  ;  and  who  make  a  report,  once 


246 

proportionately,  however,  as  we  value  this  cause, 
it  would  be  impossible  to  convict  Massachusetts 
of  such  dereliction  from  duty  as  has  been  mani- 
fested by  some  of  her  sister  States. 

I  think,  for  instance,  that  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble for  our  people  to  imitate  the  example  of  our 
neighbors,  the  inhabitants  of  Maine, — so  long  and 
so  lately  a  part  of  ourselves, — where,  in  the  year 
1839,  there  was  a  general  uprising  of  the  whole 
population,  and  an  appropriation,  by  an  almost 
unanimous  vote  of  the  Legislature,  of  the  sum  of 
eight  hundred  thousand  dollars^  for  the  forcible 
rescue  of  certain  outlands,  or  outwastes,  claimed 
by  Great  Britain ;  while,  for  three  successive  ses- 
sions, some  of  the  wisest  and  best  men  in  that 
State  have  been  striving,  in  vain,  to  obtain  from 
that  same  Legislature  the  passage  of  a  law  author- 
izing school  districts  to  purchase  a  school  library, 
by  levying  a  tax  upon  themselves  for  the  purpose. 
In  the  memoirs  of  the  Pickwick  Club,  it  is  related 
that  they  passed  a  unanimous  vote,  that  any  mem- 
ber of  said  club  should  be  allowed  to  travel  in  any 
part  of  England,  Scotland  or  Wales,  and  also  to 
send  whatever  packages  he  might  please,  always 
provided  that  said  member  shoidd  pay  his  own 

a  year,  or  oftener.  to  the  State  Superintendent,  respecting  the  condi- 
tion o\  the  schools  within  their  respective  counties.  These  Deputy 
Superintendents,  generally  swakinj^,  arc  men  of  superior  intelligence, 
practically  acquainted  with  trie  business  of  school  keeping  and  enthu- 
siastically devoted  to  the  duties  of  their  office.  We  can  imagine  how 
efficient  such  a  system  must  be,  by  supposing  the  existence  of  one  or 
more  intelligent  school  agents  or  officers,  in  each  county  of  the  State 
of  Massachusetts,  whose  whole  time  should  be  devoted  to  visiting  the 
schools,  and  to  creating,  in  the  minds  of  the  people,  a  more  adequate 
conception  of  their  value. 

There  is  a  school  library  in  every  school  district  in  the  State  of 
New  York. 

At  the  session  of  the  legislature,  in  1844,  by  a  unanimous  vote  ol 
both  branches,  the  sum  of  810,000  a  year,  for  nve  years,  was  appro- 
priated for  the  support  of  a  Normal  School.  This  was  the  crowning 
work.     The  school  was  opened  at  Albany,  in  December,  1844. 

The  State  of  New  York  now  possesses  every  means  and  facility  for 
the  improvement  of  its  Common  Schools,  which  are  possessed  by  any 
other  State  in  the  Union,  and  some  which  no  other  State  enjoys. 

21* 


UNie 

expenses.  But  the  Legislature  of  Maine  would 
not  allow  their  school  districts  to  buy  libraries, 
even  at  their  own  cost!  What  latent  capacities 
for  enjoyment  and  for  usefulness,  which  will  now 
lie  dormant  forever,  might  not  that  sum  of  eight 
hundred  thousand  dollars  have  opened  for  the 
people  of  that  State,  for  their  children  and  their 
children's  children,  had  it  been  devoted  by  enlight- 
ened minds  to  worthy  objects  ! 

So,  too,  to  give  one  more  example,  you  will  all 
recollect  that  outbreak  of  South  Carolina  against 
the  general  government,  in  1832,  when  a  few  of 
the  demi-gods  of  that  State  stamped  upon  the 
earth,  and  instantly  it  was  covered  with  armed 
men;  a  State  convention  was  held,  laws  were 
enacted,  extending  the  jurisdiction  of  the  courts 
and  investing  the  Executive  almost  with  a  Dicta- 
tor's power, — all  under  the  pretext  of  defending 
State  rights, — while,  for  the  last  thirty  years,  her 
whole  appropriation  for  public  schools  has  been 
less  than  forty  thousand  dollars  per  annum  ;  and 
out  of  a  white  population,  of  all  ages^  of  less  than 
270,000,  there  are  more  than  20,000,  above  the 
age  of  twenty  years,  who  cannot  read  and  write : 
— as  though  it  could  long  be  possible,  without 
more  efficient  means  for  the  general  diffusion  of 
intelligence  and  virtue,  to  have  any  State  rights 
worth  defending. 

But,  after  a  thorough  and  impartial  inquisition, 
what  verdict  can  we  render,  with  a  clear  con- 
science, in  regard  to  our  own  much-lauded  Com- 
monwealth ?  The  Fathers  of  New  England,  it  is 
true,  soon  after  the  settlement  of  the  colony,  estab- 
lished Common  Schools, — for  which  let  their 
names  be  honored  above  the  names  of  all  other 
men,  while  the  world  stands, — but  one  of  their 
two  avowed  objects  was,  to  enable  the  people  to 
read  the  Scriptures  in  their  native  tongue.  They 
seem  to  have  forgotten  that  the  extent  of  intel- 


247 

ligence,  and  the  teachable  and  conscientious  and 
reverential  spirit  with  which  one  comes  to  that 
reading,  is  of  paramount  importance.  The  insane 
followers  of  Matthews,  and  of  Joe  Smith,  can  read 
the  Scriptures.  Years,  too,  before  Common  Schools 
were  established  for  the  many,  a  college  was  en- 
dowed to  give  a  full  and  elaborate  education  to 
the  few,  who,  according  to  the  prevalent  views  of 
those  times,  were  to  be  designated  and  set  apart, 
even  in  youth,  to  fill  the  offices  of  church  and 
state,  in  subsequent  life.  This,  however,  should 
be  remembered  in  their  praise,  that  the  teachers 
selected  for  the  schools,  in  the  early  years  of  the 
colony,  wBre  uniformly  men  of  age,  experience, 
learning  and  moral  worth ;  and,  according  to  the 
accustomed  rates  of  compensation,  in  those  days, 
they  were  fairly  remunerated.  In  that  age,  no 
prudential  committee  man,  or  other  officer, — by 
whatever  name  he  might  have  been  called, — was 
seen  groping  about  through  all  the  colonies,  after 
bats  and  moles  to  teach  young  eagles  how  to  fly, 
because  they  would  do  it  cheap.  But  is  it  our 
general  practice  to  select,  as  teachers,  only  those 
who  have  arrived  at  mature  age,  who  are  known 
and  respected,  far  and  wide,  for  their  experience, 
weight  of  character,  dignity  of  deportment,  and 
extent  of  intelligence?  The  rate  of  compensation, 
too,  had  fallen,  before  the  year  1837  when  the 
Board  of  Education  was  established,  far  below 
that  of  skilful  artisans  and  mechanics,  or  even  of 
the  better  class  of  operatives  in  manufacturing 
establishments.  The  common  laborers  on  our 
farms,  the  journeymen  in  our  shops,  and  the 
workpeople  in  our  mills, — all  have  some  fixed 
residence,  some  place  enjoying  the  seclusion  and 
invested  with  the  sacred  associations  of  home. 
Even  the  old-fashioned  cobbler,  who  used  to  travel 
from  house  to  house,  carrying  on  his  back  his  box 
of  tools  and  his  scraps  of  leather,  has  at  last  found 


248 

an  abiding  place ; — nobody  but  the  schoolmaster  is 
obliged  to  board  round.  Nobody  but  the  school- 
master is  put  up  at  auction,  and  knocked  off  to 
the  lowest  bidder !  I  think  this  use  of  the  word 
"  loivesV^  must  oftentimes  vivify  a  teacher's  gram- 
matical notions  of  the  superlative  degree.  Think 
youj  my  friends,  there  would  be  so  many  young 
men  pressing  forward  into  the  profession  of  the 
law,  if  lawyers  were  put  up  at  auction,  and  then 
had  to  board  round  among  their  clients  ? 

Compare  the  salaries  given  to  engineers,  to 
superintendents  of  rail-roads,  to  agents  and  over- 
seers of  manufacturing  establishments,  to  cashiers 
of  banks,  and  so  forth,  with  the  customary  rates 
of  remuneration  given  to  teachers.  Yet,  does  it 
deserve  a  more  liberal  requital,  does  it  require 
greater  natural  talents,  or  greater  attainments,  to 
run  cotton  or  woollen  machinery,  or  to  keep  a 
locomotive  from  running  off  the  track,  than  it 
does  to  preserve  this  wonderfully-constructed  and 
complicated  machine  of  the  human  body  in  health 
and  vigor ;  or  to  prevent  the  spiritual  nature. — 
that  vehicle  which  carries  all  our  hopes, — from 
whirling  deviously  to  its  ruin,  or  from  dashing 
madly  forward  to  some  fatal  collision  7  Custom- 
house collectors  and  postmasters  sometimes  realize 
four,  five  or  six  thousand  dollars  a  year  from 
their  offices,  while  as  many  hundreds  are  grudg- 
ingly paid  to  a  school  teacher. 

The  compensation  which  we  give  with  the 
hand,  is  a  true  representation  of  the  value  which 
we  affix  in  the  mind ;  and  how  much  more  liber- 
ally and  cordially  do  we  requite  those  who  prepare 
outward  and  perishable  garments  for  the  persons 
of  our  children,  than  those  whose  office  it  is  to 
endue  their  spirits  with  the  immortal  vestments  of 
virtue?  Universally,  the  price-current  of  accom- 
plishments ranges  far  above  that  of  solid  and 
enduring  attainments.     Is  not  the  dancing-master, 


249 

who  teaches  our  children  to  take  the  steps,  better 
requited  than  he  who  teaches  their  feet  not  to  go 
down  to  the  chambers  of  death  1  Were  the  music- 
master  as  wretchedly  rewarded  and  as  severely- 
criticised  as  the  schoolmaster,  would  not  his  strains 
involuntarily  run  into  the  doleful  and  lugubrious? 
Strolling  minstrels,  catching  the  eye  with  gro- 
tesque dresses,  and  chanting  unintelligible  words, 
are  feasted,  feted  and  garlanded;  and  when  a 
European  dancer,  nurtured  at  the  foul  breast  of 
theatrical  corruption,  visits  our  land,  the  days  of 
idolatry  seem  to  have  returned ; — wealth  flows, 
the  incense  of  praise  rises,  enthusiasm  rages  like 
the  mad  Bacchantes,  It  is  said  that  Celeste 
received  Jifty  thousand  dollars,  in  this  country, 
in  one  year,  for  the  combined  exhibition  of  skill 
and  person;  and  that  devotee  to  Venus,  Fanny 
Ellsler,  was  paid  the  enormous  sum  of  sii;(y 
thousand  dollars^  in  three  months,  for  the  same 
meritorious  consideration,  or  value  received.  In 
both  these  cases,  a  fair  proportion  was  contrib- 
uted in  the  metropolis  of  our  own  State.  At  the 
rate  of  compensation,  at  which  a  majority  of  the 
female  teachers  in  Massachusetts  have  been  re- 
warded for  their  exhausting  toils,  it  would  require 
more  than  twenty  years'  continued  labor  to  equal 
the  receipts  of  Fanny  Ellsler  for  a  single  night ! 
Thus,  in  our  most  populous  places,  and  amongst 
people  who  profess  to  lead  society,  stands  the 
relative  supremacy  of  sense  and  soul,  of  heels 
and  head.  And  I  blush  while  I  reflect,  that 
amongst  all  the  daughters  of  New  England  who 
witnessed  the  unreserved  displays  of  these  Cyprian 
women,  there  was  not  one  to  be  found,  in  whose 
veins  flowed  the  chaste  blood  of  the  Puritan 
mothers,  prompting  her  to  approach  these  female 
sans  culottes^  backwards,  and  perform  for  them 
the  same  friendly  service,  which,  on  a  like  neces- 
sity, the  sons  or  Noah  performed  for  him.     And 


250 

although  I  would  not  silence  one  note  in  the  burst 
of  admiration  with  which  our  young  men,  whe 
assume  to  be  the  leaders  of  fashion,  respond  to  the 
charms  of  female  beauty,  agility,  or  grace ;  yet  I 
do  desire  that,  in  paying  their  homage,  they  should 
distinguish  between  the  Venus  Celestial  and  the 
Venus  Infernal !  ^ 

As  I  have  before  intimated,  the  relics,  the 
symbols,  the  monuments,  of  whatever  kind  they 
may  be,  which  a  people  has  prepared  to  sustain 
or  enshrine  the  objects  of  its  interest  or  affections, 
furnish  undesigned,  and  therefore  demonstrative 
evidence  of  the  relative  estimation  in  which  these 
objects  were  held.  The  dull  and  heavy  Egyp- 
tians have  left  us  the  visible  impress  and  emblem 

*  In  discussing  the  propriety  or  impropriety  of  exhibiting  live 
specimens  of  female  nudity,  before  mixed  assemblies  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen, — especially  when  the  spectacles  are  of  the  ad  libitum  sort, 
and  where  the  actress  is  expected  to  acknowledge  every  round  of 
applause  by  enlarging  the  field  of  vision, — I  have  sometimes  been 
answered  in  the  language  of  King  Edward's  celebrated  saying,  "Honi 
soil  qui  mal  7/ pense,"  "Evil  to  him  who  thinks  evil."  One  thing 
has  tended  to  disgust  me  with  this  retort.  I  have  never  known  it 
used,  for  this  purpose,  except  by  persons  more  or  less  deeply  tainted 
with  libertinism,  during  some  part  of  their  lives.  I  never  knew  it 
given  by  a  man  wholly  free  from  reproach,  in  conduct  and  reputation, 
on  the  score  of  licentiousness. 

One  of  the  most  striking  things  in  the  "  Letters  from  Abroad,"  by 
Miss  C.  M.  Sedgwick,  is  the  uniform  and  energetic  condemnation 
which  that  true  American  lady  bestows  upon  opera-dancers,  and 
the  whole  corps  de  ballet,  for  the  public  and  shameless  exhibition  of 
their  jiersons  upon  the  stage.  Have  the  young  ladies  of  our  cities 
a  nicer  sense  of  propriety,  of  modesty,  and  of  all  the  elements 
of  female  loveliness,  than  this  excellent  author,  who  has  written  so 
much  for  their  improvement,  and  who  is  herself  so  admirable  an 
example  of  all  feminine  purity  and  delicacy  ?  And  have  the  young 
men  of  America  a  higher  ideal  of  what  belongs  to  a  true  gentleman, — 
to  a  man  of  lofty  and  noble  nature,  than  a  writer,  who  is  so  justly 
celebrated,  in  both  hemispheres,  for  her  pure  and  elevated  conceptions 
of  human  character? 

It  is  not  with  any  harshness  of  feeling  that  I  make  another  remark, 
but  only  in  view  of  the  natural  consequences  or  tendencies  of  conduct ; 
but  it  seems  to  me  that,  for  a  husband  to  accompany  his  wife,  or  a 
father  his  daughter,  to  such  an  exhibition,  ought  to  be  held  a  good  plea 
in  bar  in  all  our  courts  of  law,  should  the  same  husband  or  father 
afterwards  appear  as  a  prosecutor  claiming  damages,  as  the  legal 
phraseology  runs,  "./or  loss  of  service  and  pain  of  mind,"  on  account 
of  the  wife  or  daughter  whom  they  had  accompanied  to  such  an 
exhibition. 


251 

of  their  minds,  in  their  indistinct  hieroglyphics, 
their  ponderous  architecture,  and  in  their  pyra- 
mids, which  exhibit  magnificence  without  taste, 
costhness  without  elegance,  and  power  without 
genius.  But  the  splendid  temples,  statues  and 
arches  of  the  Greeks;  the  massive  aqueducts  and 
horizon-seeking  roads  of  tlie  Romans,  were  only 
the  outward  and  visible  representations  of  their 
conceptions  of  ideal  beauty,  of  grandeur  and 
power.  Amongst  a  people  strongly  drawn  to- 
wards commerce,  as  the  source  of  their  supremacy 
and  opulence,  like  the  ancient  Phenicians,  or  like 
the  people  of  Great  Britain  or  of  the  United  States, 
at  the  present  day,  the  art  of  ship-building  is  sure 
to  be  cultivated,  and  the  finest  specimens  of  naval 
architecture  to  be  produced.  So,  if  great  reliance 
is  placed  upon  an  extensive  inland  traffic,  then 
innavigable  rivers  will  be  made  navigable,  moun- 
tains of  solid  rock  will  be  channelled,  valleys  filled, 
and  what  we  have  before  called  the  everlasting 
hills  will  be  removed  to  create  facilities  for  internal 
transportation.  In  fine,  our  ivorks  are  the  visible 
embodiment  and  representation  of  our  feelings. 
Thus,  the  Psalmist,  referring  to  the  unspeakably 
magnificent  heavens,  says: — they  "declare  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  showeth  his 
handy-work.' 

Tried  by  this  unerring  standard  in  human  na- 
ture, our  Schoolhouses  are  a  fair  index  or  exponent 
of  our  interest  in  Public  Education.  Suppose,  at 
this  moment,  some  potent  enchanter,  by  the  wav- 
ing of  his  inagic  wand,  should  take  up  all  the 
twenty-eight  hundred  schoolhouses  of  Massachu- 
setts, with  all  the  little  triangular  and  non-descript 
spots  of  earth  whereon  and  wherein  they  have 
been  squeezed, — whether  sand  bank,  morass, 
bleak  knoll,  or  torrid  plain, — and,  whirling  them 
through  the  affrighted  air,  should  set  them  all 
down,  visibly,  round  about  us,  in  this  place ;  and 


252 

then  should  take  us  up  into  some  watch-tower  or 
observatory,  where,  at  one  view,  we  could  behold 
the  whole  as  they  were  encamped  round  about, — ' 
each  one  true  to  the  point  of  compass  which 
marked  its  nativity,  each  one  retaining  its  own 
color  or  no-color,  each  one  standing  on  its  own 
heath,  hillock  or  fen; — 1  ask,  my  friends,  if,  in 
this  new  spectacle  under  the  sun,  with  its  motley 
hues  of  red,  gray  and  doubtful,  with  its  windows 
sprinkled  with  patterns  taken  from  Joseph's 
many-colored  coat,  with  its  broken  chimneys, 
with  its  shingles  and  clapboards  flapping  and 
clattering  in  the  wind,  as  if  giving  public  notice 
that  they  were  about  to  depart, — I  ask,  if,  in  this 
indescribable  and  unnameable  group  of  architec- 
ture, we  should  not  see  the  true  image,  reflection 
and  embodiment  of  our  own  love,  attachment  and 
regard  for  Public  Schools  and  Public  Education, 
as,  in  a  mirror,  face  answereth  to  face?  But,  how- 
ever neglected,  forgotten,  forlorn,  these  edifices 
may  be,  yet  within  their  walls  is  contained  the 
young  and  blooming  creation  of  God.  In  them 
are  our  hope,  the  hopes  of  the  earth.  There  are 
gathered  together  what  posterity  shall  look  back 
upon,  as  we  now  look  back  upon  heroes  and  sages 
and  martyrs  and  apostles ;  or  as  we  look  back 
upon  bandits  and  inquisitors  and  sybarites.  Our 
dearest  treasures  do  not  consist  in  lands  and  tene- 
ments, in  rail-roads  and  banks,  in  warehouses  or 
in  ships  upon  every  sea ;  they  are  within  those 
doors,  beneath  those  humble  roofs ;  and  is  it  not 
our  solemn  duty  to  hold  every  other  earthly  inter- 
est subordinate  to  their  welfare  7 

My  friends,  these  points  of  contrast  between 
our  devotion  to  objects  of  inferior  interest,  and 
our  comparative  neglect  of  this  transcendent 
cause,  are  as  painful  to  me  as  they  can  be  to  any 
one.  Among  all  that  remain,  I  will  mention  but 
one  class  more.     I  ask  you  to  look  at  the  pecun- 


253 

iary  appropriations,  which,  within  a  few  years 
past,  the  State  has  made  for  the  encouragement 
of  outward  and  material  irtterests,  compared  with 
what  it  has  done,  or  rather  refused  to  do,  for  the 
enhghtenment  and  moral  renovation  of  society, 
through  a  universal  education  of  the  people. 
Within  the  last  three  years,  the  treasury  of  the 
Commonwealth  has  dispensed  a  bounty  of  about 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  to  encourage  the 
growth  of  wheat, — and  within  the  last  two  years, 
of  about  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  culture  of 
silk, — for  those  goods  which  perish  with  the 
using ;  while  it  has  not  contributed  one  cent  to- 
wards satisfying  the  pressing  demand  for  appa- 
ratus and  libraries  for  our  schools,  by  which  the 
imperishable  treasures  of  knowledge  and  virtue 
would  be  increased  a  hundred  fold.  The  State 
has  provided  for  the  gratuitous  distribution  of  a 
manual,  descriptive  of  the  art  and  processes  of  silk- 
culture,  but  made  no  provision  for  the  distribution 
of  any  manual  on  that  most  difficult  of  all  arts, — 
the  art  of  Education, — as  though  silk-culture 
were  more  important  and  more  difficult  than  soul- 
culture. 

During  the  very  last  year,  the  State  paid  a 
Militia  Bounty  of  thirty  thousand  dollars,  to  sol- 
diers, for  three  or  four  trainings.  Where  are  those 
trainings  now  7  Where  now,  the  net  proceeds, 
the  value  received,  the  available,  visible  result,  as 
exhibited  in  the  advancement  of  society,  or  the 
promotion  of  human  welfare  1  Could  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars  have  been  distributed  to  sustain  the 
sinking  hearts  of  those  females  who  keep  school 
for  a  dollar  a  week,  or  for  nine  pence  a  day,  should 
we  not  now  be  able  to  show  some  of  its  tangible 
fruits,  and  would  not  a  transfer  of  the  fund  to 
such  an  object  have  illustrated  quite  as  well  the 
gallantry  of  the  citizen  soldier? 

To  the  American  Institute  of  Instruction,  whose 
22 


254 

noble  object  it  is  to  improve  the  race  of  children, 
the  State,  after  much  importunity,  has  given  the 
sum  of  three  hundred  dollars  a  year  for  five 
years,  (fifteen  hundred  dollars,)  while  to  Agricul- 
tural Societies  formed  for  the  purpose  of  improv- 
ing the  breed  of  cattle  and  a  few  other  kindred 
objects,  it  has  given  from  four  thousand  dollars  to 
six  thousand  dollars  a  year,  for  about  twenty 
years ! 

In  the  year  1834,  the  Legislature  made  provi- 
sion for  the  prospective  creation  of  a  School  Fund, 
to  be  formed  from  half  the  proceeds  of  wild  lands 
in  the  State  of  Maine,  and  from  the  Massachusetts 
claim  on  the  general  government  for  militia 
services  rendered  during  the  last  war.  Through 
unexpected  good  fortune,  about  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars  have  been  realized  from  these 
sources.  Compare  this  bestowment,  however,  of 
a  contingent  sum, — a  part  of  which  was  not 
regarded,  at  the  time,  as  much  better  than  a  gift 
of  half  the  proceeds  of  a  lottery  ticket,  provided 
it  should  draw  a  prize, — with  its  prompt  and 
magnificent  encouragement  of  rail-roads.  No 
sooner  were  the  eyes  of  the  State  opened  to  the 
commercial  importance  of  an  internal  communi- 
cation with  the  West,  than  it  forthwith  bound 
itself  to  the  amount  of  five  millions  of  dollars,  in 
aid  of  this  merely  corporeal  and  worldly  enter- 
prise. 

One  word  more,  and  I  will  forbear  any  further 
to  depict  these  painful  contrasts ;:— I  will  forbear, 
not  from  lack  of  materials,  but  from  faintness  of 
spirit.  Almost  from  year  to  year,  through  the 
whole  period  of  our  history,  wealthy  and  benevo- 
lent individuals  have  risen  up  amongst  us,  who 
have  made  noble  gifts  for  literary,  charitable  and 
religious  purposes, — for  public  libraries,  for  found- 
ing professorships  in  colleges,  for  establishing 
scientific  and  theological  institutions,  for  sending 


255 

abroad  missionaries  to  convert  the  heathen, — some 
to  one  form  of  faith,  some  to  another.  For  most 
of  these  objects  the  State  has  cooperated  with  in- 
dividuals ;  often,  it  has  given  on  its  own  account. 
It  has  bestowed  immense  sums  upon  the  Univer- 
sity at  Cambridge,  and  Wiliiams  College,  especially 
the  former.  It  gave  thirty  thousand  dollars  to  the 
Massachusetts  General  Hospital.  It  put  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  into  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument, 
there  to  stand  forever  in  mindless,  insentient,  in- 
animate granite.  But  while  with  such  a  bounte- 
ous heart  and  open  hand,  the  State  had  bestowed 
its  treasures  for  special,  or  local  objects, — for 
objects  circumscribed  to  a  party  or  a  class ; — it 
had  not,  for  two  hundred  years,  in  its  parental 
and  sovereigii  capacity,  given  any  thing  for  uni- 
versal education ; — it  had  given  nothing,  as  God 
gives  the  rain  and  the  sunshine,  to  all  who  enter 
upon  the  great  theatre  of  life. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances,  that  a  private 
gentleman,  to  his  enduring  honor,  offered  the  sum 
of  ten  thousand  dollars,  on  condition  that  the 
State  would  add  an  equal  amount,  to  aid  Teach- 
ers of  our  Common  Schools  in  obtaining  those 
qualifications  which  would  enable  them  the  more 
successfully  to  cultivate  the  divinely  wrought  and 
infinitely  valuable  capacities  of  the  human  soul. 
The  hope  and  expectation  were,  that  these  teachers 
would  go  abroad  over  the  State,  and  by  the  im- 
proved modes  and  motives  which  they  would  intro- 
duce into  the  schools,  would  be  the  means  of  con- 
ferring new,  manifold  and  unspeakable  blessings 
upon  the  rising  generation,  without  any  distinc- 
tion of  party  or  of  denomination,  of  mental,  or  of 
physical  complexion.  This  hope  and  expectation 
were  founded  upon  the  reasonableness  of  the  thing, 
upon  the  universal  experience  of  mankind  in 
regard  to  all  other  subjects,  and  upon  the  weU 
attested  experience  of  several  nations  in  regard  to 


256 

this  particular  measure.  The  proposition  was 
acceded  to.  This  sum  of  twenty  thousand  dollars 
was  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  Board  of  Edu- 
cation, to  carry  the  purposes  of  the  donor  and  of 
the  Legislature  into  effect.  Institutions  called 
Normal  Schools  were  established.  That  their 
influence  might  be  wholly  concentrated  upon  the 
preparation  of  teachers  for  our  Common  Schools, 
the  almost  doubtful  provision,  that  the  learned  lan- 
guages should  not  be  included  in  the  list  of  studies 
taught  therein,  was  inserted  in  the  regulations 
for  their  government ; — not  because  there  was  any 
hostility  or  indifference  towards  those  languages, 
but  because  it  was  desirable  to  prepare  teachers 
for  our  Common  Schools,  rather  than  to  furnish 
facilities  for  those  who  are  striving  to  become 
teachers  of  Select  Schools,  High  Schools,  and 
Academies. 

The  call  was  responded  to  by  the  very  class  of 
persons  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  Not  the  chil- 
dren of  the  rich,  not  the  idle  and  luxurious,  not 
those  in  pursuit  of  gaudy  accomplishments,  came; 
but  the  children  of  the  poor, — the  daughter  of  the 
lone  widow  whose  straitened  circumstances  for- 
bade her  to  send  to  costly  and  renowned  semina- 
ries,— the  young  man  came  from  his  obscure 
cottage  home,  where  for  years  his  soul  had  been 
on  fire  with  the  love  of  knowledge  and  the  sup- 
pressed hope  of  usefulness ; — some  accounted  the 
common  necessaries  of  life  as  superfluities,  and 
sold  them,  that  they  might  participate  in  these 
means  of  instruction  ; — some  borrowed  money 
and  subsidized  futurity  for  the  same  purpose, 
Avhile  others  submitted  to  the  lot,  still  harder  to  a 
noble  soul,  of  accepting  charity  from  a  stranger's 
hand.  They  came,  they  entered  upon  their  work 
with  fervid  zeal,  with  glowing  delight,  with  that 
buoyancy  and  inspiration  of  hope  which  none 
but  the  young  and  the  poor  can  ever  feel. 


267 

But  alas!  while  this  noble  enterprise  was  still 
in  its  bud  and  blossom,  and  before  it  was  possi- 
ble that  any  fruits  should  be  matured  from  it,  it 
was  assailed.  In  the  Legislature  of  the  Common- 
wealth of  Massachusetts,  an  attempt  was  made  to 
abolish  the  Normal  Schools,  to  disperse  the  young 
aspirants  who  had  resorted  to  them  for  instruc- 
tion, and  crush  their  hopes ;  and  to  throw  back 
into  the  hands  of  the  donor,  the  money  which  he 
had  given,  and  which  the  State  had  pledged  its 
faith  to  appropriate, — the  first  and  only  gift  which 
had  ever  been  made  for  elevating  and  extending 
the  education  of  all  the  children  in  the  Common- 
wealth. 

In  the  document  which  purports  to  set  forth  the 
reasons  for  this  measure,  the  doctrine  that  ''  the 
art  of  teaching  is  a  peculiar  art,"  is  gainsaid.  It 
is  boldly  maintained  "that  every  person  who  has 
himself  undergone  a  process  of  instruction,  must 
acquire  by  that  very  process  the  art  of  instruct- 
ing others."  And  in  this  country,  where,  with- 
out a  higher  standard  of  qualification  for  teach- 
ers, without  more  universal  and  more  eflicient 
means  of  education  than  have  ever  elsewhere 
existed,  all  our  laws  and  constitutions  are  weaker 
barriers  against  the  assaults  of  human  passion 
than  is  a  bulrush  against  the  ocean's  tide  ; — in  this 
country,  that  document  aflirmed  that  "perhaps  it 
is  not  desirable  that  the  business  of  keeping  these 
schools,  [the  Common  Schools,]  should  become  a 
distinct  and  separate  profession." 

Conceding  to  the  originators  and  advocates  of 
this  scheme  for  abolishing  the  Normal  Schools, 
that  they  were  sincerely  friendly  to  the  cause  of 
Common  Schools,  how  strikingly  does  it  ex- 
hibit the  low  state  of  public  sentiment  in  regard 
to  these  schools.  Those  claiming  to  be  their  friends, 
— men,  too,  who  had  been  honored  by  their  fellow- 
citizens  witl)  a  scat  in  the  Legislature, — thought 
22* 


258 

it  unnecessary,  even  in  this  country,  to  elevate  the 
teacher's  office  into  a  profession  ! 

I  will  never  cease  to  protest  that  I  am  not 
bringing  forward  these  facts  for  the  purpose  of 
criminating  the  motives,  or  of  invoking  retribution 
upon  the  conduct  of  any  one.  My  sole  and  exclu- 
sive object  is  to  show  to  what  menial  rank  the 
majesty  of  this  cause  has  been  degraded ; — to 
show  that  the  affections  of  this  community  are  not 
clustered  around  it ;  that  it  is  not  the  treasure 
which  their  hearts  love  and  their  hands  guard ; — 
in  fine,  that  the  sublime  idea  of  a  generous  and 
universal  education,  as  the  appointed  means,  in  the 
hands  of  Providence,  for  restoring  mankind  to  a 
greater  similitude  to  their  Divine  Original,  is  but 
just  dawning  upon  the  public  mind. 

But  I  have  done.  Let  this  rapid  survey  of  our 
condition,  by  showing  us  how  little  has  been 
done,  convince  us  how  much  remains  to  be  ac- 
complished. Instead  of  repining  at  the  inadequate 
conceptions  of  our  predecessors,  let  us  rejoice  and 
shout  aloud  for  joy,  that  we  have  been  brought  to 
a  point,  where  the  vista  of  a  more  glorious  future 
opens  upon  our  view.  Let  us  dilate  our  spirits  to 
a  capacity  for  embracing  the  magnitude  and  gran- 
deur of  the  work  we  have  undertaken.  Let  us 
strengthen  our  resolutions,  till  difficulty  and  ob- 
struction shall  be  annihilated  before  them.  If  the 
ascent  before  us  is  high,  all  the  more  glorious  will 
be  the  prospect  from  the  summit;  if  it  is  toilsome, 
our  sinews  shall  grow  mightier  by  every  struggle 
to  overcome  it.  If  it  is  grateful  to  recognize 
blessings  which  have  been  won  for  us  by  our 
ancestors,  it  is  more  noble  in  us  to  win  blessings 
for  posterity, — for  God  has  so  constituted  the  soul, 
that  the  generous  feelings  of  self-sacrifice  are  in- 
finitely sweeter  and  more  enduring  than  the  self- 
ish pleasures  of  indulgence.  Although,  as  friends 
of  this  cause,  we  are  few  and  scattered,  and  sur- 


259 

rounded  by  an  unsympathizing  world,  yet,  let  ns 
toil  on,  each  in  his  own  sphere,  whatever  that 
sphere  may  be,  nor  "  bate  one  jot  of  heart  or  hope." 
Although  we  now  labor,  like  the  coral  insects  at 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  uncheered,  unheard,  un- 
seen, with  the  tumultuous  waters  of  interest  and 
of  passion  raging  high  above  us,  yet  let  us  con- 
tinue to  labor  on, — for,  at  length,  like  them,  we 
will  bring  a  rock-built  continent  to  the  surface, 
and  upon  that  surface  God  will  plant  his  Paradise 
anew,  and  people  it  with  men  and  women  of 
nobler  forms  and  of  diviner  beauty  than  any  who 
now  live, — with  beings  whose  minds  shall  be 
illumined  by  the  light  of  knowledge,  and  whose 
hearts  shall  be  hallowed  by  the  sanctity  of  religion. 

For  the  fulfilment,  then,  of  these  holy  pur- 
poses, what  labors  shall  we  undertake,  and  in 
what  resolutions  shall  we  persevere  unto  the  end? 
— for  labor  and  perseverance  are  indispensable 
means  for  the  production  of  any  good  by  human 
hands. 

In  the  first  place,  the  education  of  the  whole 
people,  in  a  republican  government,  can  never  be 
attained  without  the  consent  of  the  whole  people. 
Compulsion,  even  though  it  were  a  desirable,  is 
not  an  available  instrument.  Enlightenment,  not 
coercion,  is  our  resource.  The  nature  of  educa- 
tion must  be  explained.  The  whole  mass  of  mind 
must  be  instructed  in  regard  to  its  comprehensive 
and  enduring  interests.  We  cannot  drive  our 
people  up  a  dark  avenue,  even  though  it  be  the 
right  one ;  but  we  must  hang  the  starry  lights  of 
knowledge  about  it,  and  show  them  not  only  the 
directness  of  its  course  to  the  goal  of  prosperity 
and  honor,  but  the  beauty  of  the  way  that  leads 
to  it.  In  some  districts,  there  will  be  but  a  single 
man  or  woman,  in  some  towns,  scarcely  half-a- 
dozen  men  or  women,  who  have  espoused  this 
noble  enterprise.     But  whether  there  be  half-a- 


260 

dozen  or  but  one,  they  must  be  like  the  little  leaven 
which  a  woman  took  and  hid  in  three  measures 
of  meal.  Let  the  intelligent  visit  the  ignorant, 
day  by  day,  as  the  oculist  visits  the  blind  man, 
and  detaches  the  scales  from  his  eyes,  until  the 
living  sense  leaps  to  the  living  light.  Let  the 
zealous  seek  contact  and  communion  with  those 
who  are  frozen  up  in  indifference,  and  thaw  off  the 
icebergs  wherein  they  lie  imbedded.  Let  the  love 
of  beautiful  childhood,  the  love  of  country,  the 
dictates  of  reason,  the  admonitions  of  conscience, 
the  sense  of  religious  responsibility,  be  plied,  in 
mingled  tenderness  and  earnestness,  until  the 
obdurate  and  dark  mass  of  avarice  and  ignorance 
and  prejudice  shall  be  dissipated  by  their  blended 
light  and  heat 

But  a  duty  more  noble,  as  well  as  more  difficult 
and  delicate  than  that  of  restoring  the  suspended 
animation  of  society,  will  devolve  upon  the  phy- 
sician and  friend  of  this  cause.  In  its  largest  sense, 
no  subject  is  so  comprehensive  as  that  of  educa- 
tion. Its  circumference  reaches  around  and  out- 
side of,  and  therefore  embraces  all  other  interests, 
human  and  divine.  Hence,  there  is  danger  that 
whenever  any  thing  practical, — any  real  change, 
— is  proposed,  all  classes  of  men  will  start  up  and 
inquire,  how  the  proposed  change  will  affect  some 
private  interest,  or  some  idolized  theory  or  opinion 
of  theirs.  Suppose  a  short-sighted,  selfish  man  to 
be  interested  as  manufacturer,  author,  compiler, 
copyright  owner,  vender,  pedlar,  or  puffer,  of  any 
of  the  hundreds  of  school-books, — from  the  read- 
ing book  that  costs  a  dollar,  to  the  primer  that  costs 
four  pence, — whose  number  and  inconsistencies 
infest  our  schools,  and  whose  expense  burdens 
our  community, — then  he  will  inquire  which  one 
of  all  these  books  will  be  likely  to  meet  with  coun- 
tenance or  disfavor,  in  an  adjudication  upon  their 
merits ;  and  he  will  strive  to  turn  the  scales  which 


261 

confessedly  hold  the  great  interests  of  humanity, 
one  way  or  the  other,  as  their  inclination  will 
promote  or  oppose  the  success  of  his  reading  book 
or  his  primer.  So  one,  who  has  entered  the  polit- 
ical arena,  not  as  a  patriot,  but  as  a  partisan,  will 
deride  upon  any  new  measure  by  its  supposed 
bearing  upon  the  success  of  his  faction  or  cabal, 
and  not  by  its  tendency  to  advance  the  welfare 
of  the  body  politic.  In  relation,  too,  to  a  more 
solemn  subject, — how  many  individuals  there  are 
belonging  to  the  hundred  conflicting  forms  of 
religious  faith,  which  now  stain  and  mottle  the 
holy  whiteness  of  Christianity,  who  will  array 
themselves  against  all  plans  for  the  reform  or  ren- 
ovation of  society,  unless  its  agents  and  instru- 
ments are  of  their  selection.  And  so  of  all  the 
varied  interests  in  the  community, — industrial, 
literary,  political,  spiritual.  Whatever  class  this 
great  cause  may  touch,  or  be  supposed  likely  to 
touch,  there  will  come  forth  from  that  class,  active 
opponents ;  or,  what  may  not  be  lessdisastrous,  self- 
ish and  indiscreet  friends.  I  have  known  the  car- 
penter and  the  mason  belonging  to  the  same  school 
district,  change  sides  and  votes  on  the  expediency 
of  erecting  a  new  schoolhouse,  after  it  had  been 
determined,  contrary  to  expectation,  to  construct 
it  of  brick  instead  of  wood.  I  have  known  a  book- 
maker seek  anxiously  to  learn  the  opinions  of  the 
Board  of  Education  respecting  his  book,  in  order 
to  qualify  himself  to  decide  upon  the  expediency 
of  its  having  been  established. 

How  then,  I  ask,  is  this  great  interest  to  sus- 
tain itself,  amid  these  disturbing  forces  of  party 
and  sect  and  faction  and  clan  ?  how  is  it  to  navi- 
gate with  whirlwinds  above  and  whirlpools  below, 
and  rocks  on  every  side? 

In  the  first  place,  in  regard  to  mere  secular  and 
business  interests,  we  are  to  do  no  man  wrong ; 
we  are  to  show  by  our  deeds,  rather  than  by  our 


words,  that  we  are  seeking  no  private,  personal 
aims,  but  public  ends  by  equitable  means.  We 
are  to  show  that  our  object  is  to  diffuse  light  and 
knowledge,  and  to  leave  those  who  can  best  bear 
these  tests,  to  profit  most  by  their  diffusion.  Let 
us  here  teach  the  lessons  of  justice  and  impar- 
tiality on  what,  in  schools,  is  called  the  exhibitory 
method;  that  is,  by  an  actual  exhibition  of  the 
principle  we  would  inculcate ;  and  as,  for  the 
untaught  schoolboy,  we  bring  out  specimens, 
and  models  and  objects,  and  give  practical  illus- 
trations by  apparatus  and  diagram  to  make  him 
acquainted  with  the  various  branches  of  study ; 
so,  in  the  great  school  of  the  world,  let  us  illus- 
trate the  virtues  of  generosity,  magnanimity, 
equity  and  self-sacrifice,  by  the  shining  example 
of  our  acts  and  lives. 

And  again ;  in  regard  to  those  higher  interests 
which  the  politician  and  the  theologian  feel  called 
upon  to  guard  and  superintend,  let  us  show  them 
that,  in  supporting  a  system  of  Public  Instruction, 
adapted  to  common  wants  and  to  be  upheld  by  com- 
mon means,  we  will  not  encroach  one  hair's  breadth 
upon  the  peculiar  province  of  any  party  or  any 
denomination.  But  let  us  never  cease  to  reiter- 
ate, and  urge  home  upon  the  consideration  of  all 
political  parties  and  religious  denominations,  that, 
in  order  to  gain  any  useful  ally  to  their  cause,  or 
worthy  convert  to  their  faith,  they  must  first  find 
a  MAN, — not  a  statue,  not  an  automaton,  not  a 
puppet,  but  a  free,  a  thinking,  an  intelligent  soul ; 
— a  being  possessed  of  the  attributes  as  well  as  the 
form  of  humanity.  For,  what  can  the  enlightened 
advocate  of  any  doctrine  do,  if  he  is  compelled  to 
address  brutish  souls,  through  adders'  ears  ?  How 
much  can  the  senator  or  the  ambassador  of  Christ 
accomplish,  in  convincing  or  in  reforming  mankind, 
if  they  are  first  obliged  to  fish  up  their  subjects 
from  the  fetid  slough  of  sensualism,  or  to  excavate 


263 

them  from  beneath  thick  layers  of  prejudice, 
where,  if  I  may  express  myself  in  geological 
language,  they  lie  buried  below  the  granite  for- 
mation. In  expounding  the  great  problems  of 
civil  polity,  or  the  momentous  questions  pertain- 
ing to  our  immortal  destinies,  how  much  can 
they  effect,  while  obliged  to  labor  upon  men 
whose  intellects  are  so  halting  and  snail-paced, 
that  they  can  no  more  traverse  the  logical  dis- 
tance between  premises  and  conclusion,  in  any 
argument,  than  their  bodies  could  leap  the  spaces 
between  the  fixed  stars  ?  As  educators,  as  friends 
and  sustainers  of  the  Common  School  system, 
our  great  duty  is  to  prepare  these  living  and  intel- 
ligent souls ;  to  awaken  the  faculty  of  thought  in 
all  the  children  of  the  Commonwealth ;  to  give 
them  an  inquiring,  outlooking,  forthgoing  mind; 
to  impart  to  them  the  greatest  practicable  amount 
of  useful  knowledge ;  to  cultivate  in  them  a  sacred 
regard  to  truth  ;  to  keep  them  unspotted  from  the 
world,  that  is,  uncontaminated  by  its  vices;  to 
train  them  up  to  the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of 
man  ;  to  make  the  perfect  example  of  Jesus  Christ 
lovely  in  their  eyes ;  and  to  give  to  all  so  much 
religious  instruction  as  is  compatible  with  the 
rights  of  others  and  with  the  genius  of  our  govern- 
ment,— leaving  to  parents  and  guardians  the  di- 
rection, during  their  school-going  days,  of  all 
special  and  peculiar  instruction  respecting  politics 
and  theology ;  and  at  last,  when  the  children  arrive 
at  years  of  maturity,  to  commend  them  to  that 
inviolable  prerogative  of  private  judgment  and  of 
self-direction,  which,  in  a  Protestant  and  a  Re- 
publican country,  is  the  acknowledged  birth-right 
of  every  human  being. 

But  sterner  trials  than  any  I  have  yet  men- 
tioned await  the  disciples  of  this  sacred  apostle- 
ship.  The  strong  abuses  that  have  invaded  us 
will  not  be  complimented  into  retirement;  they 


264 

will  not  be  bowed  out  of  society ;  but  as  soon  as 
they  are  touched,  they  will  bristle  all  over  with 
armor,  and  assail  us  with  implacable  hostility. 
While  doing  good,  therefore,  we  must  consent  to 
suffer  wrong.  Such  is  human  nature,  that  the 
introduction  of  every  good  cause  adds  another 
chapter  to  the  Book  of  Martyrs.  Though  wise  as 
serpents,  yet  there  are  adders  who  will  not  hear 
us ;  and  though  harmless  as  doves,  yet  for  that 
very  harmlessness  will  the  vultures  more  readily 
stoop  upon  us.  We  shall  not,  indeed,  be  literally 
carried  to  the  stake,  or  burned  with  material  fires ; 
but  pangs  keener  than  these,  and  more  enduring, 
will  be  made  to  pierce  our  breasts.  Our  motives 
will  be  maligned,  our  words  belied,  our  actions 
falsified.  A  reputation,  for  whose  spotlessness 
and  purity,  we  may,  through  life,  have  resisted 
every  temptation  and  made  every  sacrifice,  will 
be  blackened ;  and  a  character, — perhaps  our  only 
precious  possession  wherewith  to  requite  the  love 
of  family  and  friends, — will  be  traduced,  calum- 
niated, vilified;  and,  if  deemed  sufficiently  con- 
spicuous to  attract  public  attention,  held  up,  in  the 
public  press,  perhaps  in  legislative  halls,  to  com- 
mon scorn  and  derision.  What  then !  Shall  we 
desert  this  glorious  cause  7  Shall  we  ignobly  sacri- 
fice immortal  good  to  mortal  ease  7  No ;  never  ! 
But  let  us  meet  opposition  in  the  spirit  of  him  who 
prophetically  said,  "If  they  have  persecuted  me, 
they  will  also  persecute  you."  For  those  who 
oppose  and  malign  us,  our  revenge  shall  be,  to 
make  their  children  wiser,  better,  and  happier 
than  themselves.  If  we  ever  feel  the  earthly 
motives  contending  with  the  heavenly,  in  our 
bosoms, — selfishness  against  duty,  sloth  against 
enduring  and  ennobling  toil,  a  vicious  content- 
ment against  aspirings  after  higher  and  attain- 
able good, — let  us  not  suffer  the  earth-born  to 


265 

vanquish  the  immortal.  What,  though  it  camiot 
be  said, 

"  A  cloud  of  witnesses  around, 
Hold  us  in  full  survey," 

yet  the  voiceless  approval  of  conscience  outweighs 
the  applauses  of  the  world,  and  will  outlast  the 
very  air  and  light,  through  which  the  eulogiums 
of  mankind  or  the  memorials  of  their  homage,  can 
be  manifested  to  us. 

What,  too,  though  we  cannot  complete  or  per- 
fect the  work  in  our  own  age.  For  the  consum- 
mation of  such  a  cause,  a  thousand  years  are  to 
be  regarded  only  as  a  day.  We  know  that  the 
Creator  has  established  an  indissoluble  connection 
between  our  conduct  and  its  consequences.  We 
know  that  the  sublime  order  of  his  Providence  is 
sustained,  by  evolving  effects  from  causes.  We 
know  that,  within  certain  limits,  he  has  intrusted 
the  preparation  of  causes  to  our  hands ;  and,  there- 
fore, we  know,  that  just  so  far  as  he  has  com- 
mitted this  preparation  or  adjustment  of  causes  to 
us,  he  has  given  us  power  over  effects ; — he  has 
given  us  power  to  modify  or  turn  the  flow  of 
events  for  coming  ages.  As  the  apostles  and 
martyrs  and  heroes,  who  lived  centuries  ago,  have 
modified  the  events  which  happen  to  us,  so  have 
we  the  power  to  modify  the  events  which  shall 
happen  to  our  posterity.  We  are  not  laboring, 
then,  for  three  score  and  ten  years  only,  but,  for 
aught  we  know,  for  three  score  and  ten  centuries, 
or  myriads  of  centuries.  Through  these  immu- 
table relations  of  cause  and  effect, — of  evolution, 
transmission  and  reproduction, — our  conduct  will 
project  its  consequences  through  all  the  eras  of 
coming  time.  Though  our  life,  therefore,  is  but 
as  a  vapor  which  passeth  away,  yet  we  have 
power  to  strike  the  deepest  chords  of  human 
welfare,  and  to  give  them  vibrations  which  shall 
23 


266 

sound  onward  forever.  Corresponding  with  this 
stupendous  order  of  events,  we  are  endowed  with  a 
faculty  of  mind,  by  which  we  can  recognize  and 
appreciate  our  power  over  the  fortunes  and  des- 
tinies of  distant  times.  By  the  aid  of  this  faculty, 
we  can  see  that  whatever  we  undertake  and 
prosecute,  with  right  motives  and  on  sound  prin- 
ciples, will  not  return  to  us  void,  but  will  produce 
its  legitimate  fruits  of  beneficence.  On  this  faculty, 
then,  as  on  eagles'  wings,  let  us  soar  beyond  the 
visible  horizon  of  time ;  let  us  survey  the  pros- 
pect of  redoubling  magnificence,  which,  from 
age  to  age,  will  open  and  stretch  onward,  before 
those  whose  blessed  ministry  it  is  to  improve  the 
condition  of  the  young ;  let  our  thoughts  wander 
up  and  down  among  the  coming  centuries,  and 
partake,  by  anticipation,  of  the  enjoyments  which 
others  shall  realize.  If  we  ever  seem  to  be  labor- 
ing in  vain, — if  our  spirits  are  ever  ready  to 
faint,  amid  present  obstruction  and  hostility, — 
then,  through  this  faculty  of  discerning  what 
mighty  results  Nature  and  Providence  will  mature 
from  humble  efforts,  let  us  look  forward,  in  faith, 
and  we  shall  behold  this  mighty  cause  emerging 
from  its  present  gloom  and  obscurity,  expanding 
and  blossoming  out  into  beauty,  and  ripening  into 
the  immortal  fruits  of  wisdom  and  holiness ;  and 
as  we  gaze  upon  the  glorious  scene,  every  faculty 
within  us  shall  be  vivified,  and  endued  with  new 
and  unwonted  energy. 

What,  then,  though  our  words  and  deeds  seem 
now  to  be  almost  powerless  and  hopeless ;  what 
though  bands  of  noble  followers  should  rise  up  in 
our  places,  to  be  succeeded  again  and  again  by 
others,  whose  labors  and  sacrifices  shall  seem  to 
fall  and  perish  like  the  autumnal  leaves  of  the 
forest; — yet,  like  the  annual  shedding  of  that 
foliage,  which,  for  uncounted  centuries,  has  been 
gradually   deepening   the   alluvium,    throughout 


267 

the  vast  solitudes  of  the  Mississippi  valley,  in- 
creasing its  depth  and  its  richness,  so  shall  the 
product  of  our  labors  accumulate  in  value  and  in 
amount,  until,  at  last,  beneath  the  hand  of  some 
more  fortunate  cultivator,  it  shall  yield  more 
abundant  harvests  of  excellence,  and  righteous- 
ness and  happiness,  than  had  ever  before  lux- 
uriated in  the  *'seed-field  of  Time." 


LECTURE   VI. 

ON  DISTRICT  SCHOOL  LIBRARIES 

I  PROPOSE,  in  the  following  lecture,  to  consider 
the  expediency  of  establishing  a  School  Library 
in  the  several  School  Districts  of  the  State. 

The  idea  of  a  Common  School  Library  is  a  mod- 
ern one.  It  originated  in  the  State  of  New  York. 
In  the  year  1835,  a  law  was  passed  by  the  Legisla- 
ture of  that  State,  authorizing  its  respective  school 
districts  to  raise,  by  tax,  the  sum  of  twenty  dol- 
lars the  first  year,  and  ten  dollars  in  any  subse- 
quent year,  for  the  purchase  of  a  Common  School 
Library.  No  inducement  was  held  out  to  the 
districts  to  make  the  purchase,  but  only  a  mere 
power  granted;  and  the  consequence  was,  that 
for  three  years  this  law  remained  almost  a  dead 
letter  upon  the  pages  of  the  statute  book.  But  in 
the  year  1838,  Governor  Marcy,  in  his  inaugural 
address  to  the  Legislature,  recommended  the  ap- 
propriation of  a  part  of  the  income  of  the  United 
States  deposit  fund,  or  surplus  revenue,  (so  called,) 
to  this  object.  The  recommendation  was  adopted, 
and  the  sum  of  $55,000  for  three  years,  was  set 
apart  to  be  applied  by  the  districts  to  the  purchase 
of  a  District  School  Library.  The  towns  were  also 
required  to  raise  an  equal  sum,  to  be  united  with 
the  former,  and  to  be  applied  in  the  same  way.* 

*  By  a  law  of  1839.  this  prorision  for  three,  was  extended  to  Jive 
years:  and  by  a  law  oi  1843.  it  was  made  perpetual,  with  the  following 
niudifications :  Whenever  tne  number  of  cliilclnn  in  a  district,  betweeu 

23* 


270 

How  much  more  does  such  an  act  of  permanent 
usefulness  redound  to  the  honor  of  a  Governor  or 
a  Legislature,  than  those  party  contests  which 
occupy  so  much  of  public  attention  for  a  few  days 
or  months,  but  are  then  forgotten,  or  are  only 
remembered  to  be  lamented  or  condemned  ! 

By  the  law  of  April  12,  1837,  the  Legislature  of 
Massachusetts  authorized  each  school  district  in 
the  State  to  raise,  by  tax,  a  sum  not  exceeding 
thirty  dollars  for  the  |irst  year,  and  ten  dollars  for 
any  subsequent  year,  for  the  purchase  of  a  library 
and  apparatus  for  the  schools.  Few  districts, 
however,  availed  themselves  of  this  power;  and, 
up  to  the  close  of  the  year  1839,  there  were  but 
about  fifty  libraries  in  all  the  Common  Schools  of 
Massachusetts. 

Being  convinced  of  the  necessity,  and  foresee- 
ing the  benefits,  of  libraries  in  our  schools,  I  sub- 
mitted to  the  Board  of  Education,  on  the  27th 
day  of  March,  1838,  a  written  proposition  on  that 
subject.  In  that  communication  it  was  proposed 
that  the  Board  itself  should  take  measures  for  the 
preparation  of  such  a  Common  School  Library,  as 
should  be  adapted  to  the  wants  of  the  schools, 
and  should  at  the  same  time  be  free  from  objection 
on  account  of  partisan  opinions  in  politics,  or  sec- 
tarian views  in  religion.  I  had  been  led  to  sup- 
pose that  one  of  the  principal  reasons  why  so  few 
libraries  had  been  purchased,  under  the  law  of 
1837,  was  the  jealousy  entertained  against  each 
other,  by  members  of  different  political  parties 
and  of  different  religious  denominations.    Though 

the  ages  of  five  and  sixteen  years,  exceeds  fifty,  and  the  number  of 
vohimes  in  the  library  shall  exceed  one  hundred  and  twenty -five  ; 
or  when  the  number  of  children  in  a  district,  between  the  same  ages, 
is  fifty,  or  less,  and  the  number  of  volumes  belonging  to  the  library 
shall  exceed  one  hundred,  then  the  district  may  appropriate  the  whole, 
or  any  part  of  its  distributive  sliare  of  the  '*  library  money  "  "  to  the 

Eirchase  of  maps,  globes,  blackboards,  or  other  scientific  apparatus, 
r  the  use  of  the  school." 


271 

sensible  men,  and  friends  of  education,  almost 
without  exception,  were  earnest  in  their  desires 
for  a  library,  yet  they  either  had  fears  of  their 
own,  or  encountered  apprehension  in  others,  that 
the  pubHc  money  devoted  to  this  purpose  of 
general  utility,  might  be  perverted,  in  the  hands 
of  partisans,  to  the  furtherance  of  sinister  ends. 
The  proposition  submitted  to  the  Board,  as  above 
stated,  was  accompanied  by  guards  designed  to 
obviate  these  difficulties.  It  was  favorably  re- 
ceived, and  immediately  acted  upon. 

Being  convinced,  however,  that  nothing  could 
be  effected  towards  the  accomplishment  of  so 
grand  an  object,  except  by  going  before  the  people 
with  indubitable  facts  and  irresistible  arguments, 
I  set  myself  to  the  work  of  making  extensive  and 
minute  inquiries  throughout  the  State,  respecting 
the  number  of  public  libraries,  the  number  of  vol- 
umes which  each  contained,  their  estimated  value, 
the  general  character  of  the  books,  and  also  the 
number  of  persons  who  had  a  right  of  access  to 
them.  I  obtained  returns  from  all  but  sixteen 
towns,  which,  being  small,  had  an  aggregate  pop- 
ulation of  only  20,966.  The  result  exceeded  my 
worst  apprehensions.  I  found  that  there  were  but 
299  social  libraries  in  the  State.  The  number 
of  volumes  they  contained  was  180,028.  Their 
estimated  value  $191,538.  The  number  of  propri- 
etors, or  persons  having  access  to  them,  in  their 
own  right,  was  only  25,705. 

In  addition  to  the  above,  there  were,  in  the 
Slate,  from  ten  to  fifteen  tow7i  libraries, — that 
is,  libraries  to  which  all  the  citizens  of  the  town 
had  a  right  of  access.  These  contained,  in  the 
aggregate,  from  three  to  four  thousand  volumes, 
and  their  estimated  value  was  about  $1400.  There 
were  also  about  fifty  school  district  libraries,  con- 
taining about  ten  thousand  volumes,  and  worth, 
by  estimation,  about  $3200  or  $3300.     Fifteen  of 


272 

these  were  in  Boston.  The  number  of  Pubhc 
Schools  in  the  State,  at  that  time,  was  3,014. 

A  few  of  the  incorporated  academies  had  small 
libraries. 

There  were  also  a  few  circulating  libraries  in 
different  parts  of  the  State, — out  of  the  city  of 
Boston,  perhaps  twenty, — but  it  would  be  chari- 
table to  suppose  that,  on  the  whole,  this  class  of 
libraries  does  as  much  good  as  harm. 

Of  all  the  social  libraries  in  the  State,  thirty- 
six,  containing  81,881  volumes,  valued  at  $130,- 
055,  and  owned  by  8,885  proprietors,  or  share- 
holders, belonged  to  the  city  of  Boston. 

It  appeared,  then,  that  the  books  belonging  to 
the  public  social  libraries,  in  the  city  of  Boston, 
constituted  almost  one  half,  in  number,  of  all  the 
books  in  the  social  libraries  of  the  State,  and  more 
than  two  thirds  of  all  in  value ;  and  yet  only 
about  one  tenth  part  of  the  population  of  the  city 
had  any  right  of  access  to  them. 

I  have  said  above  that  the  whole  number  of 
proprietors,  or  share-holders,  in  all  the  social 
libraries  in  the  State  was  25,705.  Now,  suppos- 
ing that  each  proprietor  or  share-holder,  in  these 
social  libraries,  represents,  on  an  average,  four 
persons,  (and  this,  considering  the  number  of 
share-holders  who  are  not  heads  of  families,  is 
probably  a  full  allowance,)  tile  population  repre- 
sented by  them,  as  enjoying  the  benefits  of  these 
libraries,  would  be  only  a  small  fraction  over  one 
hundred  thousand;  and  this,  strange  and  alarm- 
ing as  it  may  seem,  would  leave  a  population,  in 
the  State,  of  more  than  six  hundred  thousand,  who 
have  no  right  of  participation  in  those  benefits. 

I  omit  here,  as  not  having  an  immediate  con- 
nection with  my  present  purpose,  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  the  libraries  belonging  to  the  colleges  and 
other  literary  and  scientific  institutions  in  the 
State.    A  detailed  account  of  these  may  be  found 


273 

in  my  Third  Annual  Report  to  the  Board  of  Edu- 
cation. 

Do  not  the  above  facts  show  a  most  extraor- 
dinary and  wide-spread  deficiency  of  books  in 
our  Commonwealth? 

But  even  where  books  exist,  another  question 
arises,  hardly  less  important  than  the  preceding, 
as  to  the  suitableness  or  adaptation  of  the  books  to 
the  youthful  mind.  One  general  remark  applies 
to  the  existing  libraries  almost  without  exception : 
— the  books  were  written  for  men,  and  not  for 
children.  The  libraries,  too,  have  been  collected 
by  men  for  their  own  amusement  or  edification. 
There  is  no  hazard,  therefore,  in  saying,  that  they 
contain  very  few  books,  appropriate  for  the  read- 
mg  of  the  young,  either  in  the  subjects  treated  of, 
the  intellectual  manner  in  which  those  subjects 
are  discussed,  or  the  moral  tone  that  pervades  the 
works.* 


*  As  descnptiveof  the  general  character  of  the  public  libraries  now 
existing  in  the  State,  I  give  the  following  extract  from  my  Third 
Annual  Report : — 

The  next  question  respects  the  character  of  the  books,  composing 
the  libraries,  and  their  adaptation  to  the  capacities  and  mental  con- 
dition of  children  and  youth.  In  regard  to  this  point,  there  is,  as 
might  be  expected,  but  little  diversity  of  statement.  Almost  all  the 
answera  concur  in  the  opinion,  that  the  contents  of  the  libraries  are 
not  adapted  to  the  intellectual  and  moral  wants  of  the  young, — an 
opinion,  which  a  reference  to  the  titles,  in  the  catalogues,  will  fully 
sustain.  With  very  few  exceptions,  the  books  were  written  for 
adults,  for  persons  of  some  maturity  of  mind,  and  possessed,  already, 
of  a  considerable  fund  of  information  ;  and,  therefore,  they  could  not 
be  adapted  to  children,  except  through  mistake.  Of  course,  in  the 
whole,  collcotively  considered,  there  is  every  kind  of  books ;  but 
probably  no  other  kind,  which  can  be  deemed  of  a  useful  character, 
occupies  so  much  space  upon  the  shelves  of  the  libraries,  as  the  his- 
torical class.  Some  of  the  various  histories  of  Greece  and  Rome  ;  the 
History  of  Modem  Europe,  by  Russell  ;  of  England,  by  Hume  and 
his  successors  ;  Robertson's  Cnarles  V.  ;  Mavor's  Universal  History  ; 
the  numerous  Histories  of  Napoleon,  and  similar  works,  constitute 
the  staple  of  many  libraries.  And  how  little  do  these  books  contain, 
which  IS  suitable  for  children  !  How  little  do  they  record,  but  the 
destruction  of  human  life,  and  the  activity  of  those  misguided  ener- 
gies of  men,  which  have  hitherto  almost  baffled  the  beneticent  inten- 
tions of  Nature  for  human  happiness  1  Descriptions  of  battles,  sack- 
ings of  cities,  and  the  captivity  of  nations,  follow  each  other,  with  the 


274 


Now  the  object  of  a  Common  School  Library 
is  to  supply  these  great  deficiencies.      Existing 


quickest  movement,  and  in  an  endless  succession.  Almost  the  only 
glimpses  which  we  catch,  of  the  education  of  youth,  present  them,  as 
engaged  in  martial  sports,  and  in  mimic  feats  of  arms,  preparatory  to 
the  gralid  tragedies  of  battle  ; — exercises  and  exhibitions,  which,  both 
in  the  performer  and  the  spectator,  cultivate  all  the  dissocial  emotions, 
and  turn  the  whole  current  of  the  mental  forces  into  the  channel  of 
destructiveness.  The  reader  sees  inventive  genius,  not  employed  in 
perfecting  the  useful  arts,  but  exhausting  itseff  in  the  manufacture  of 
implements  of  war.  He  sees  rulers  and  legislators,  not  engaged  in 
devising  comprehensive  plans  for  universal  welfare,  but  in  levying  and 
equipping  armies  and  navies,  and  extorting  taxes  to  maintam  them, 
thus  dividing  the  whole  mass  of  the  people  into  the  two  classes  of 
slaves  and  soldiers  ;  enforcing  the  degradation  and  servility  of  tame 
animals,  upon  the  former,  and  cultivating  the  ferocity  and  blood- 
thirstiness  of  wild  animals,  in  the  latter.  The  highest  honors  are 
conferred  upon  men,  in  whose  rolls  of  slaughter  the  most  thousands 
of  victims  are  numbered  ;  and  seldom  does  woman  emerge  from  her 
obscurity — indeed,  hardly  should  we  know  that  she  existed — but  for 
her  appearance,  to  grace  the  triumphs  of  the  conqueror.  What  a 
series  of  facts  would  be  indicated,  by  an  examination  of  all  the  treaties 
of  peace,  which  history  records !  they  would  appear  like  a  grand  in- 
dex to  universal  plunder.  The  inference  which  children  would  legiti- 
mately draw,  from  reading  like  this,  would  be,  that  the  tribes  and 
nations  of  men  had  been  created,  only  for  mutual  slaughter,  and  that 
they  deserved  the  homage  of  posterity,  for  the  terrible  fidelity  with 
which  their  mission  had  been  fulfilled.  Rarely  do  these  records 
administer  any  antidote  against  the  inhumanity  of  the  spirit  they 
instil.  In  the  immature  minds  of  children,  unaccustomed  to  consider 
events,  under  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  they  excite  the  concep- 
tion of  magnificent  palaces  or  temples,  for  bloody  conquerors  to  dwell 
in,  or  in  which  to  offer  profane  worship  for  inhuman  triumphs,  with- 
out a  suggestion  of  the  bondage  and  debasement  of  the  myriads  of 
slaves,  who,  through  lives  of  privation  and  torture,  were  compelled  to 
erect  them  ;  they  present  an  exciting  picture  of  long  trains  of  plun- 
dered wealth,  going  to  enrich  some  city  or  hero,  without  an  intima- 
tion, that,  by  industry  and  the  arts  of  peace,  the  same  wealth  could 
have  been  earned,  more  cheaply  than  it  was  plundered  ;  they  exhibit 
the  triumphal  return  of  warriors,  to  be  crowned  with  honors  worthv  of 
a  god,  while  they  take  the  mind  wholly  away  from  the  carnage  of^the 
battle-field,  from  desolated  provinces,  and  a  mourning  people.  In  all 
this,  it  is  true,  there  are  many  examples  of  the  partial  and  limited 
virtue  of  patriotism  ;  but  few,  only,  ot  the  complete  virtue  of  philan- 
thropy. The  courage,  held  up  for  admiration,  is  generally  of  that 
animal  nature,  which  rushes  into  danger,  to  inflict  injury  upon  an- 
other; but  not  of  that  Divine  quality,  which  braves  peril,  tor  the  sake 
of  bestowing  good — attributes,  than  which  there  are  scarcely  any  two 
in  the  souls  of  men,  more  different,  though  the  baseness  of  the  former 
is  so  often  mistaken  for  the  nobleness  of  the  latter.  Indeed,  if  the 
past  history  of  our  race  is  to  be  much  read  by  children,  it  should  be 
re-written  ;  and^  while  it  records  those  events,  which  have  contra- 
vened all  the  prmciples  of  social  policy,  and  violated  all  the  laws  of 
morality  and  religion,  there  should,  at  least,  be  some  recognition  of 
the  great  truth,  that,  among  nations,  as  among  individuals,  the  high- 


275 

libraries  are  owned  by  the  rich,  or  by  those  who 
are  in  comfortable  circumstances.  The  Common 
School  Library  will  reach  the  poor.  The  former 
were  prepared  for  adult  and  educated  minds ;  the 
latter  is  to  be  adapted  to  instruct  young  and  un- 
enlightened ones.  By  the  former,  books  are  col- 
lected in  great  numbers,  at  a  few  places,  having 
broad  deserts  between ;  by  the  latter,  a  few  good 
books  are  to  be  sent  into  every  school  district  in 
the  State,  so  that  not  a  child  shall  be  born  in  our 
beloved  Commonwealth,  who  shall  not  have  a 
collection  of  good  books  accessible  to  him  at  all 
times,  and  free  of  expense,  within  half  an  hour's 
walk  of  his  home,  wherever  he  may  reside. 

My  friends,  I  look  upon  this  as  one  of  the 
grandest  moral  enterprises  of  the  age.  The  honor 
of  first  embodying  this  idea,  in  practice,  belongs 

est  welfare  of  all  can  only  be  effected,  by  securing  the  individual  wel- 
fare of  each.  There  should  be  some  parallel  drawn,  between  the 
historical  and  the  natural  relations  of  the  race,  so  that  the  tender  and 
immature  mind  of  the  youthful  reader  may  have  some  opportunity  of 
comparing  the  right  with  the  wrong,  and  some  option  of  admiring  and 
emulating  the  former,  instead  of  the  latter.  As  much  of  history  now 
stands,  the  examples  of  right  and  wrong,  whose  nativity  and  residence 
are  on  opposite  sides  of  tne  moral  universe,  are  not  merely  brought 
and  shuffled  together,  so  as  to  make  it  difficult  to  distinguish  between 
them ;  but  the  latter  are  made  to  occupy  almost  the  whole  field  of 
vision,  while  the  existence  of  the  former  is  scarcely  noticed.  It  is, 
as  thongh  children  should  be  taken  to  behold,  from  afar,  the  light  of 
a  city  on  fire,  and  directed  to  admire  the  splendor  of  the  conflagra- 
tion, without  a  thought  of  the  tumult,  and  terror,  and  death,  reigning 
beneath  it. 

Another  very  considerable  portion  of  these  libraries,  especially 
where  they  have  been  recently  formed  or  replenished,  consists  of 
novels,  ana  all  that  class  of  booKs,  which  is  comprehended  under  the 
familiar  designations  of"  fictions,"  "  light  reading,"  "  trashy  works," 
"  ephemeral,"  or  "  bubble  literature,"  otc.  This  kind  of  books  has 
increa.sed,  immeasurably,  within  the  last  twenty  years.  It  has  in- 
sinuated itself  into  public  libraries,  and  found  the  readiest  welcome 
with  people,  who  are  not  dependent  upon  libraries  for  the  books  they 
peruse.  Aside  from  newspapers,  I  am  satisfied,  that  the  major  part 
of  the  unprofesainnal  readmg  of  the  community  is  of  the  class  of 
books  above  designated.  Amusement  is  the  object, — mere  amuse- 
ment, as  contradistinffiiished  fr«)m  instruction,  in  the  practical  con- 
cerns of  life  ;  as  contrrirlistinguislied  from  those  intellectual  and  moral 
impulses,  which  turn  the  mind,  both  while  reading  and  after  the  book 
is  closed,  to  observation,  and  comparison,  and  reflection,  upon  the 
great  realities  of  existence. 


276 

to  the  State  of  New  York ;  and  how  much  more 
glorious  is  it  than  the  honors  of  battle !  The  exe- 
cution of  this  project  will  carry  the  elements  of 
thought  where  they  never  penetrated  before.  It 
will  scatter,  free  and  abundant,  the  seeds  of  wis- 
dom and  virtue  in  the  desert  places  of  the  land. 
It  will  prove  as  powerful  an  agent  in  the  world 
of  mind,  as  the  use  of  steam  has  done  in  the 
world  of  matter. 

I  propose  now  to  notice  a  few  particulars,  in 
which  the  usefulness  of  our  schools  will  be  so 
much  enlarged  in  extent,  and  increased  in  effi- 
ciency, by  means  of  a  library,  that  they  will 
become  almost  new  institutions. 

The  idea  which  came  down  to  us  from  our 
ancestors,  and  which  has  generally  prevailed  until 
within  a  few  years,  was,  that  Common  District 
Schools  are  places  where  the  mass  of  the  chil- 
dren may  learn  to  read,  to  write,  and  to  cipher. 

In  regard  to  the  first  of  these  studies, — Read- 
ing,— how  imperfect  was  the  instruction  given  ! 
Good  reading  may  be  considered  under  three 
heads, — the  mechanical^  or  the  ability  to  speak 
the  names  of  words  on  seeing  them ;  the  intellect- 
ual, or  a  comprehension  of  an  author's  ideas  ; 
and  the  rhetorical,  or  the  power  of  giving,  by  the 
tones  and  inflexions  of  the  voice  and  other  nat- 
ural language,  an  appropriate  expression  to  feeling. 
Now  most  men,  whose  Common  School  education 
closed  twenty  or  twenty-five  years  ago,  will  bear 
me  out  in  saying,  that  the  mechanical  part  of 
reading  was  the  only  branch  of  this  accomplish- 
ment which,  in  the  great  majority  of  our  schools, 
was  then  attended  to.  The  intellectual  part,  which 
consists  in  seeing,  with  the  mind's  eye,  the  whole 
subject,  broad,  ample,  unshadowed,  just  as  the 
author  saw  it,  was  mainly  neglected.  Consider 
what  a  wonderful, — what  an  almost  magical 
boon,  a  writer  of  great  genius  confers  upon  us, 


277 

when  we  read  him  intelligently.  As  he  proceeds 
from  point  to  point  in  his  argument  or  narrative, 
we  seem  to  be  taken  up  by  him,  and  carried  from 
hill-top  to  hill-top,  where,  through  an  atmosphere 
of  light,  we  survey  a  glorious  region  of  thought, 
looking  freely,  far  and  wide,  above  and  below, 
and  gazing  in  admiration  upon  all  the  beauty  and 
grandeur  of  the  scene.  But  if  we  read  the  same 
author,  unintelligently,  not  one  of  the  splendors 
he  would  reveal  to  us,  is  pictured  upon  the  eye. 
All  is  blank.  The  black  and  white  pages  of  the 
book  are,  to  our  vision,  the  outside  of  the  uni- 
verse in  that  direction.  I  never  attended  any  but 
a  Common  School  until  I  was  sixteen  years  of 
age,  and  up  to  that  time,  I  had  never  heard  a 
question  asked,  either  by  teacher  or  scholar,  re- 
specting the  meaning  of  a  word  or  sentence  in  a 
reading  lesson.  In  spelling,  when  words  were 
addressed  singly  to  the  eye  or  ear,  we  uttered  a 
single  mechanical  sound ;  and  in  reading,  when 
the  words  came  in  a  row,  the  sounds  followed  in 
a  row ;  but  it  was  the  work  of  the  organs  of 
speech  only, — the  reflecting  and  imaginative 
powers  being  all  the  while  as  stagnant  as  th^ 
Dead  Sea.  It  was  the  noise  of  machinery  thrown 
out  of  gear ;  and,  of  course,  performing  no  work, 
though  it  should  run  on  forever.  The  exercises 
had  no  more  significancy  than  the  chattering  of 
magpies  or  the  cawing  of  ravens;  for  it  was  no 
part  of  the  school  instruction  of  those  days  to 
illustrate  and  exemplify  the  power  and  copious- 
ness of  the  English  language,  and,  out  of  its 
flexible  and  bright-colored  words,  to  make  wings, 
on  which  the  mind  could  go  abroad  through 
height  and  depth  and  distance,  exploring  and  cir- 
cumnavigating worlds. 

Nor  was  our  instruction  any  better  in  regard  to 
the  rhetorical  part  of  reading,  which  consists  in 
such  a  compass  of  voice  and  inflection  of  tone, 
24 


&78 

as  tend  to  reproduce  the  feelings  of  the  speaker  in 
the  minds  of  the  hearers.  There  is  this  difference 
between  the  intellectual  and  the  rhetorical  part 
of  reading; — the  intellectual  refers  to  our  own 
ability  to  perceive  and  understand  ideas,  argu- 
ments, conclusions ; — the  rhetorical  refers  to  the 
power  of  exciting  in  others,  by  our  own  enun- 
ciation and  manner  of  delivery,  the  sentiments 
and  emotions  which  we  feel,  or  which  were  felt 
by  the  author  in  whose  place  we  stand. 

Some  men  have  possessed  this  power,  and  some 
men  now  possess  it,  in  such  perfection,  that  when 
they  rise  to  address  a  concourse  of  people, — the 
more  numerous  the  concourse,  the  better  for  their 
purpose, — they  forthwith  migrate,  as  it  were,  into 
the  bodies  of  the  whole  multitude  before  them ; 
they  dwell,  like  a  spirit,  within  the  spirits  of  their 
hearers,  controlling  every  emotion  and  resolve, 
conjuring  up  before  their  eyes  whatever  visions 
they  please,  making  all  imaginations  seem  sub- 
stance and  reality, — rousing,  inflaming,  subduing, 
so  that,  if  they  cry  War !  every  hearer  becomes 
valiant  and  hot  as  Mars ;  but  if  they  cry  Peace ! 
the  fiercest  grow  gentle  and  merciful  as  a  loving 
child.  This  is  a  great  art ;  and  when  the  orator 
is  wise  and  good,  and  the  audience  intelligent, 
there  is  no  danger,  but  a  delicious  illusion  and 
luxury  in  its  enjoyment.  Who  has  not  gone 
beyond  the  delight,  and  speculated  upon  the  phe- 
nomenon itself,  when  he  has  seen  a  master  of 
the  art  of  music  place  himself  before  a  musical 
instrument,  and,  soon  as  with  nimble  fingers  he 
touches  the  strings,  which,  but  a  moment  before, 
lay  voiceless  and  dead,  they  pour  out  living 
and  ecstatic  harmonies, — as  though  some  celestial 
spirit  had  fallen  asleep  amid  the  chords,  but,  sud- 
denly awakening,  was  celebrating  its  return  to 
life,  by  a  song  of  its  native  elysium.  When 
such  music  ceases,  it  seems  hardly  a  figure  of 


279 

speech  to  say,  '*  the  angel  has  flown."  But  what 
is  this,  compared  with  that  more  potent  and 
exquisite  instrument,  the  well-trained  voiced 
When  Demosthenes  or  Patrick  Henry  pealed 
such  a  war-cry,  that  all  people,  wherever  its 
echoes  rang,  sprung  to  their  arms,  and  every 
peaceful  citizen,  as  he  listened,  felt  the  warrior 
growing  hig  within  him,  and  taking  command  of 
all  his  faculties,  what  instrument  or  medium  was 
there,  by  which  the  soul  of  the  orator  was  trans- 
fused into  the  souls  of  his  hearers,  but  the  voice  ? 
Yet  while  their  bodies  stood  around,  as  silent  and 
moveless  as  marble  statuary,  there  raged  within 
their  bosoms  a  turbulence  and  whirlwind  and 
boiling,  fiercer  than  if  ocean  and  iEtna  had  em- 
braced. And  so,  to  a  great  extent,  it  is  even 
now,  when  what  they  uttered  is  fittingly  read. 
We  call  this  magic,  enchantment,  sorcery,  and 
so  forth ;  but  there  is  no  more  magic  in  it,  than 
in  balancing  an  egg  on  the  smaller  end, — each 
being  equally  easy  when  we  have  learned  how 
to  do  it. 

None,  however,  of  the  beauties  of  rhetorical 
reading  can  be  attained,  unless  the  intellectual 
part  is  mastered.  The  mechanical  reader  is  a 
mere  grinder  of  words.  If  he  reads  without  any 
attempt  at  expression,  it  is  mere  see-saw  and  mill- 
clackery ;  if  he  attempts  expression,  he  is  sure  to 
mistake  its  place,  and  his  flourishes  become  ri- 
diculous rant  and  extravagance.* 

Now  no  one  thing  will  contribute  more  to 
intelligent  reading  in  our  schools,  than  a  well 
selected  library;  and,  through  intelligence,  the 
library  will  also  contribute  to  rhetorical  ease, 
grace,  and  expressiveness.  Wake  up  a  child  to 
a  consciousness  of  power  and  beauty,  and  you 
might  as  easily  confine  Hercules  to  a  distaff*,  or 
bind  Apollo  to  a  tread-mill,  as  to  confine  his  spirit 
within  the  mechanical  round  of  a  schoolroom, 


280 

where  such  mechanism  still  exists.  Let  a  child 
read  and  understand  such  stories  as  the  friend- 
ship of  Damon  and  Pythias,  the  integrity  of 
Aristides,  the  fidelity  of  Regains,  the  purity  of 
Washington,  the  invincible  perseverance  of  Frank- 
lin, and  he  will  think  differently  and  act'  differ- 
ently all  the  days  of  his  remaining  life.  Let  boys 
or  girls  of  sixteen  years  of  age,  read  an  intelligible 
and  popular  treatise  on  astronomy  and  geology, 
and  from  that  day,  new  heavens  will  bend  over 
their  head,  and  a  new  earth  will  spread  out 
beneath  their  feet.  A  mind  accustomed  to  go 
rejoicing  over  the  splendid  regions  of  the  material 
universe,  or  to  luxuriate  in  the  richer  worlds  of 
thought,  can  never  afterwards  read  like  a  wooden 
machine,^a  thing  of  cranks  and  pipes, — to  say 
nothing  of  the  pleasures  and  the  utility  it  will 
realize. 

Indeed,  when  a  scholar,  at  the  age  of  sixteen 
or  eighteen  years,  leaves  any  one  of  our  Public 
Schools,  I  cannot  see  with  what  propriety  we  can 
say  he  has  learned  the  art  of  reading,  in  that 
school,  if  he  cannot  promptly  understand,  either 
by  reading  himself,  or  by  hearing  another  read, 
any  common  English  book  of  history,  biography, 
morals,  or  poetry;  or  if  he  cannot  readily  com- 
prehend all  the  words  commonly  spoken,  in  the 
lecture-room,  the  court-room,  or  the  pulpit.  It  is 
not  enough  to  understand  the  customary  words 
used  at  meal-time,  or  in  a  dram-shop,  or  in  con- 
gressional brawling.  I  know  it  is  the  cry  of 
many  a  hearer  to  the  speaker, — "  Come  doion  to 
my  comprehension ;"  but  I  cannot  see  why  any 
speaker,  who  speaks  good  English  words, — 
whether  derived  originally  from  the  Saxon  or 
the  Latin,  or  any  other  lawful  source, — has  not 
quite  as  good  a  right  to  say  to  the  hearer,  "  Come 
up  to  my  language."  When  a  clergyman,  or 
public  speaker  of  any  kind,  for  every  hour  that  he 


281 

spends  in  thinking  out  his  discourse,  must  spend 
two  hours  in  diluting  it  with  watery  expressions, 
in  order  to  have  it  run  so  thin  that  every  body  may 
see  to  the  bottom,  he  loses  not  only  the  greater 
part  of  his  time,  but  he  loses  immensely  in  the 
value  and  impressiveness  of  his  teachings.  If,  in 
the  heat  of  composition,  and  with  the  light  of  all 
his  faculties  brought  to  a  focus,  he  kindles  with  a 
thought  which  glows  like  the  orient  sun,  must  he 
stop  and  cut  it  up  into  farthing  candles,  lest  the 
weak  eyes  of  some  bat  or  mole  should  be  dazzled 
by  its  brightness?  But,  in  all  such  cases,  the 
hearers  lose  still  more  than  the  speaker.  By  the 
half-hour  or  hour  together,  they  must  receive 
small  coins, — cents  and  four-penny  bits, — instead 
of  guineas  and  doubloons.  They  are  like  those 
ignorant,  foreign  depositors  in  one  of  our  city 
Savings  Banks,  during  a  late  panic  in  the  money 
market,  who  rushed  to  the  counter,  demanding 
immediate  payment;  but  when  pieces  of  gold 
were  offered  to  them,  of  whose  value  they  had  no 
test,  and  with  whose  image  and  superscription 
they  were  not  acquainted,  they  besought  the  offi- 
cers, although,  as  they  supposed,  at  the  imminent 
risk  of  losing  their  whole  deposit,  to  pay  them  in 
small  change,  where  they  felt  at  home.  Just  so 
it  is  with  those  who  are  forever  calling  upon  the 
speaker  to  come  down  to  their  comprehension,  in 
regard  to  his  language  and  style ;  for,  if  he  obeys 
the  call  and  goes  very  far  down,  in  order  to  meet 
them,  he  necessarily  leaves  m\ich  of  the  grandeur 
and  beauty  and  sublimity  of  his  subject  behind 
him.  When  a  speaker  is  to  discourse  upon  any 
great  theme, — one  belonging  to  any  department 
of  a  universe  which  Onmisciencehas  planned  and 
Omnipotence  has  builded,  ought  he  not  to  be 
allowed  a  generous  liberty  in  the  use  of  language  1 
Ought  he  not  to  be  allowed  a  scope  and  amplitude 
of  expression,  by  which  he  can  display,  as  on  a 
24* 


282 

sky-broad  panorama,  the  infinite  relations  that 
belong  to  the  minutest  thing;  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  should  he  not  be  allowed  that  condensa- 
tion of  speech,  by  which  the  vastest  systems  of 
nature  can  be  consolidated  into  a  single  word,  to 
be  hurled,  like  a  bolt,  at  its  mark  ?  Is  it  not  as 
absurd  to  restrict  the  speaker,  on  such  occasions, 
to  mere  nursery  or  cradle-talk,  as  it  would  be  to 
deny  sea-room  to  an  admiral,  and  require  him, 
for  our  amusement,  to  mancBuvre  navies  in  a  mill- 
pond  7 

Suppose  a  company  of  Americans  should  go  to 
France  or  Germany,  and  after  picking  up  a  few 
words  in  hotels  and  diligences,  should  attend  the 
public  lecture,  the  play,  or  the  services  of  the 
cathedral,  and  should  there  demand  of  the  speak- 
ers to  keep  within  the  narrow  limits  of  their 
vocabulary, — I  ask,  whether  it  would  not  be  most 
unreasonable,  on  the  one  side,  to  make  such  a 
demand,  and  impossible  on  the  other,  to  comply 
with  it?  And  how  would  the  case  be  altered, 
though  the  company  should  reside  there  for  twen- 
ty-one years,  if  they  still  remained  ignorant  of 
the  language  of  the  country  ?  Now  this  is  just 
our  case.  Children,  of  course,  come  into  the 
world  with  just  as  little  knowledge  of  English  as 
of  French  and  German ;  and  if  they  remain  here 
for  twenty-one  years,  without  learning  English 
words,  how  can  they  expect  to  understand  Eng- 
lish speakers'? 

I  do  not  mean,  by  these  remarks,  to  counte- 
nance or  palliate  the  folly  of  those  speakers  or 
writers,  who  are  always  straining  after  new 
words,  or  swelling  forms  of  expression ;  and 
whose  breadth  and  flow  of  style  do  not  resemble 
a  river,  but  only  a  tiny  stream  whipped  into  bub- 
bles. It  is  occasionally  our  lot  to  encounter  men 
who  seem  to  have  imbibed  some  mathematical 
notion,  that  the  power  of  a  word  is  as  the  square 


283 

of  its  length,  and  hence  they  suppose,  that  what 
Horace  calls  seven-foot  words  *"  must  have  at 
least  forty-nine  times  the  pith  of  monosyllables. 
Such  diction  and  style  are  as  offensive  to  men  of 
good  taste,  as  they  are  unintelligible  to  the  illit- 
erate. But  I  do  mean,  by  these  remarks,  to  give 
a  definition  of  what  should  be  understood  by  the 
phrase, — learning  to  read.  Unless  pupils,  there- 
fore, on  going  out  from  our  schools,  can  read 
intelligently  any  good  English  book,  and  under- 
stand any  speech  or  discourse  expressed  in  good 
English  words,  they  cannot,  with  any  propriety, 
be  said  to  have  learned  to  read.  And  as  no  set 
of  reading  books,  in  our  schools,  contains  any 
thing  like  the  whole  circle  of  words  which  are  in 
common  and  reputable  use,  in  the  pulpit,  at 
the  bar,  in  the  senate,  or  in  works  of  standard 
literature,  it  is  obvious  that  a  school  library  is 
needed  to  supply  the  great  deficiency,  which 
otherwise  would  necessarily  exist  in  the  language 
of  the  present  children ;  and,  of  course,  in  the 
language  of  the  future  men  and  women. 

Justice,  in  reference  to  this  subject,  has  never 
been  done  to  the  clerical  profession.  They  habit- 
ually address  audiences,  the  most  promiscuous  in 
point  of  attainment, — and,  so  far  as  it  regards 
the  various  qualities  of  language, — its  scope,  its 
majesty,  its  beauty,  its  melody,  its  simplicity, — 
if  they  prepare  an  entertainment  of  milk  for  intel- 
lectual babes,  the  full-grown  men  die  of  thin 
blood  and  inanition  ; — if,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
bring  forward  strong  meat  for  men,  it  cannot  be 
assimilated  by  the  weak  organs  of  the  sucklings. 
Hence  multitudes  abandon  the  sanctuary  alto- 
gether; and  the  ignorant,  who  need  its  teachings 
most,  are  most  likely  to  desert  it.  How  impor- 
tant then,  it  is,  for  all  the  divine  purposes  of  this 
profession,  to  teach  children  the  art  of  reading,  in 

*  Sesquipedalia  verba. 


284 

the  true,  legitimate  and  full  sense  of  that  phrase ; 
and.  for  this  end,  a  good  school  library  is  indis- 
pensable. 

I  proceed  to  notice  another  grand  distinction 
between  a  Common  School  with  a  library,  and  a 
Common  School  without  one  ;  and  a  still  more  im- 
portant distinction,  between  a  State,  all  of  whose 
Common  Schools  have  libraries,  and  a  State  in 
which  there  are  none.  This  distinction  consists 
in  the  power  of  libraries  to  enlarge  the  amount  of 
useful  knowledge  possessed  by  a  community. 
The  State  which  teaches  one  new  truth  to  one  of 
its  citizens  does  something ;  but  how  much  more, 
when  by  teaching  that  truth  to  all,  it  multiplies 
its  utilities  and  its  pleasures  by  the  number  of  all 
the  citizens.  The  saying  of  Adam  Smith  has 
been  quoted  thousands  of  times,  that  he  who 
makes  two  blades  of  grass  grow  where  but  one 
grew  before,  is  a  public  benefactor.  But  he  who 
doubles  the  amount  of  knowledge  belonging  to  a 
community,  is  a  public  benefactor  as  much  greater 
than  he  who  doubles  the  blades  of  grass  on  its 
soil,  as  immortal,  life-giving  truth  is  better  than 
the  perishing  flowers  of  the  field.  Could  we 
examine  all  the  nations  which  are  called  civilized 
or  Christian,  we  should  not  find  one  individual 
in  a  thousand  worthy  to  be  called  intelligent^  in 
regard  to  many  kinds  of  knowledge,  which  might 
be  possessed,  and,  for  their  own  safety  and  hap- 
piness, should  be  possessed  by  all.  We  should 
not  find  one  individual  in  a  thousand  who  knows 
any  thing  instructive  or  pleasurable,  respecting 
the  wonderful  structure  of  his  own  body,  and  the 
still  more  wonderful  constitution  and  functions 
of  his  own  mind  ;  and  respecting  the  laws, — the 
certain  and  infallible  laws, — of  bodily  health  and 
mental  growth.  There  is  not  one  individual  in  a 
thousand  who  has  any  knowledge,  so  definite  as 
to  be  beneficial,  of  the  history  of  our  race  ;    or 


285 

who  knows  any  thing  of  the  sublimer  parts  of 
astronomy,  or  of  the  magnificent  and  romantic 
science  of  geology, — a  science  which  leads  the  mind 
backwards  into  time  as  far  as  astronomy  leads  it 
outwards  into  space; — or  of  chemistry  with  its 
applications  to  the  arts  of  life ;  or  of  the  principal 
laws  of  natural  and  mechanical  philosophy ;  or 
of  the  origin,  history,  and  processes  of  those  use- 
ful arts,  by  which  the  common  and  every-day 
comforts  of  life  are  prepared.  Now  respecting 
most,  if  not  all  these  subjects,  every  man  and 
woman  might  possess  a  liberal  fund  of  informa- 
tion, which  would  be  to  them  an  ever-springing 
fountain  of  delight  and  usefulness.  But  the  uni- 
form policy  of  governments  has  been  to  create  a 
few  men  of  great  learning  rather  than  to  diffuse 
knowledge  among  the  many.  Literary  institu- 
tions have  been  founded,  and  a  nation's  treasury 
almost  emptied  for  their  endowment ;  and  when 
a  rare  and  mighty  genius  has  appeared  in  any 
part  of  the  kingdom,  he  has  been  summoned  to 
embellish  and  dignify  the  court  or  university  ; 
and  rarely  have  such  men  ever  sent  back  a  ray 
to  illumine  the  dark  places  of  their  nativity. 
The  policy  of  governments  has  absorbed  all  light 
into  the  centre,  instead  of  radiating  it  to  the  cir- 
cumference. And  when,  by  the  combined  labor 
of  learned  and  studious  men, — amid  mountains 
of  books,  amid  museums  and  apparatus  and  all 
the  appliances  of  human  art, — some  new  law  of 
nature  has  been  detected,  another  planet  discov- 
ered in  the  heavens,  or  another  curiosity  upon 
the  earth, — the  rulers  of  mankind,  the  depositaries 
and  trustees  of  a  people's  welfare,  have  celebrated 
the  event  with  jubilee  and  Te  Deiim,  and  written 
themselves  down  the  Solomons  of  the  race.  Be- 
tween England  and  France, — two  kingdoms 
which  now  stand  and  have  long  stood  in  the  van 
of  science  and  art, — a  strong  national  jealousy 


286 

exists  as  to  the  relative  superiority  of  their  great 
men.  England  boasts  that  it  was  her  Newton 
whose  mighty  hand  drew  aside  the  veil  from  the 
face  of  the  heavens,  and  revealed  the  stupendous 
movements  of  the  solar  system.  France  retorts, 
that  it  was  left  to  her  La  Place  to  perfect  the 
Newtonian  discovery,  and  to  make  every  part 
of  the  celestial  mechanism  as  intelligible  as  a 
watch  to  a  watchmaker.  England  displays  her 
achievements  in  the  natural  sciences.  France 
flaunts  her  trophies  in  the  exact  ones.  England 
points  to  her  useful  arts ;  France  to  those  which 
are  born  of  an  elegant  imagination.  Now  all 
these  inventions  and  discoveries,  so  far  as  they 
go,  are  well.  I  rejoice  in  the  existence  of  learn- 
ing, any  where.  I  contemplate  with  delight  those 
imperial  structures,  where,  for  centuries,  a  sin- 
cere, though  often  an  unintelligent  homage  has 
been  offered  to  the  divinities  of  knowledge.  I 
gaze  with  gladdened  eye,  through  the  long  vista 
of  those  galleries,  where  the  lore  of  all  former 
times  has  been  gathered.  It  charms  and  exalts 
me  to  look  upon  cabinets  which  are  enriched  with 
all  the  wonders  of  land  and  sea ;  and  upon  labo- 
ratories, where  Nature  comes  and  submits  herself 
to  our  rude  and  awkward  experiments,  teaching 
us,  as  lovingly  as  a  mother  teaches  her  infant 
child,  and  striving  to  make  us  understand  some 
of  the  words  of  her  omnipotent  language.  I 
look  upon  all  these  witii  delight,  for  they  are 
treasuries  and  storehouses  for  the  instruction  and 
exaltation  of  mankind.  Above  all,  I  hail  with 
inexpressible  joy,  whatever  discovery  may  be 
made  in  any  department  of  the  immense  and  in- 
finitely-varied fields  of  Nature ;  for  I  know  that 
all  truth  is  of  God  and  from  God,  and  was  sent 
out  to  us  as  a  messenger  and  guide,  to  lead  our 
faltering  steps  upwards  to  virtue  and  happiness. 
But  still  I  mourn.     I  mourn  that  this  splendid 


2sr 

apparatus  of  means  should  be  restricted  to  so 
narrow  a  circle  in  the  diffusiveness  of  its  blessings. 
1  mourn  that  numbers  so  few  should  be  admitted 
to  dwell  in  the  light,  while  multitudes  so  vast 
should  remain  in  outer  darkness.  I  mourn  that 
governments  and  rulers  should  have  been  blind 
to  their  greatest  glory, — tlie  physical  and  mental 
well-being  of  the  mictions  whose  destiny  has  been 
placed  in  their  hands.  God  has  given  to  all  man- 
kind capacities  for  enjoying  the  delights  and  prof- 
iting by  the  utilities  of  knowledge.  Why  should 
so  many  pine  and  parch,  in  sight  of  fountains 
whose  sw^et  waters  are  sufficiently  copious  to 
slake  the  thirst  of  all  7  The  scientific  or  literary 
well-being  of  a  community  is  to  be  estimated  not 
so  much  by  its  possessing  a  few  men  of  great 
knowledge,  as  by  its  having  many  men  of  com- 
petent knowledge ;  and  especially  is  this  so,  if  the 
many  have  been  stinted  in  order  to  aggrandize 
the  few.  Was  it  any  honor  to  Rome  that  Lucul- 
lus  had  jive  thousand  changes  of  raiment  in  his 
wardrobe,  while  an  equal  number  of  her  people 
went  naked  to  furnish  his  superfluity  ?  How 
does  the  farmer  estimate  the  value  of  his  timber- 
lands? — surely  not  by  here  and  there  a  stately 
tree,' though  its  columnar  shaft  should  shoot  up 
to  the  clouds,  while,  all  around,  there  is  nothing 
but  dwarfish  and  scraggy  shrubs.  One  or  a  few 
noble  trees  are  not  enough,  though  they  rise  as 
high  and  spread  as  wide  as  the  sycamore  of  the 
Mississippi,  but  he  wants  the  whole  area  covered, 
as  with  a  forest  of  banians.  And  thus  should  be 
the  growth  of  these  immortal  and  longing  natures 
which  God  has  given  to  all  mankind.  Eiacli  mind 
in  the  community  should  be  cultivated,  so  that 
the  intellectual  surveyor  of  a  people, — the  mental 
statistician,  or  he  who  takes  the  valuation  of  a 
nation's  spiritual  resources, — should  not  merely 
count  a  few  individuals,  scattered  here  and  there  j 


288 

bnt  should  be  obliged  to  multiply  the  mental 
stature  of  one  by  the  number  of  aM^  in  order  to 
get  his  product.  The  mensuration  of  a  people's 
knowledge  should  no  longer  consist  in  calculating 
the  possessions  of  a  few,  but  in  obtaining  the  sum 
total,  or  solid  contents,  in  the  possession  of  alL 
And  for  this  end,  the  dimensions  of  knowledge, 
so  to  speak,  must  be  enlarged  in  each  geometrical 
direction ;  it  must  not  only  be  extended  on  the 
surface,  but  deepened,  until  the  whole  superficies 
is  cubed. 

I  say  I  rejoice  that,  in  former  times,  facilities 
and  incitements  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge 
have  been  enjoyed  even  by  a  few  ;  but  if  this  is  to 
be  all,  and  mankind  are  to  stop  where  they  now 
are ;  if,  while  light  gladdens  a  few  eyes,  tens  of 
thousands  are  still  to  grope  on  amid  the  horrors  of 
mental  blindness  ;  if,  while  a  few  dwell  serenely 
in  the  upper  regions  of  day,  the  masses  of  man- 
kind are  to  be  plunged  in  Egyptian  night,  haunted 
by  all  the  spectres  of  superstition,  and  bowing  down 
to  the  foul  idols  of  appetite  and  sense ; — if  such 
were  the  prospective  destiny  of  the  race,  I  would 
pray  Heaven  for  another  universal  deluge, — 

"  To  make  one  sop  of  all  this  solid  globe," — 

to  sweep  all  existing  institutions  away,  and  give  a 
clear  space  for  trying  the  experiment  of  humanity 
anew.  The  atrocities  and  abominations  of  men 
have  proceeded  from  their  ignorance  as  much  as 
from  their  depravity  ;  and  rather  than  that  war 
should  continue  to  devour  its  nations  ;  that  slav- 
ery should  always  curse,  as  it  now  does,  both 
enslaved  and  enslaver ;  that  fraud  and  perfidy 
between  man  and  man  should  abound,  as  they 
now  abound,  and  that  intemperance  should  re- 
kindle its  dying  fires ; — rather  than  all  this,  I 
would  rejoice  to  see  this  solid  globe  hurled  off 
into    illimitable   space,  and   made  a  tenantless 


289 

Now,  who  does 
not  see  that  to  gem  the  whole  surface  of  the  State 
with  good  schools,  and  to  supply  each  school 
with  a  good  library,  will  be  the  most  effective 
means  ever  yet  devised  by  human  wisdom,  for 
spreading  light  among  the  masses  of  mankind? 

There  is  another  respect  in  which  the  establish- 
ment of  a  library  in  every  school  district  will  add 
a  new  and  grand  feature  to  our  Common  School 
system.  The  whole  object  in  the  foundation  and 
maintenance  of  our  scliools,  hitherto,  has  been 
the  education  of  children, — of  minors.  Ordinarily, 
and  with  very  few  exceptions,  when  our  children 
have  reached  the  age  of  sixteen,  eighteen,  or  at 
furthest,  of  twenty-one  years,  they  have  been 
weaned  from  the  schoolhouse ;  and,  in  a  vast 
proportion  of  cases,  so  thoroughly  weaned,  too, 
\hat  the  very  idea  of  the  milk  of  this  mother  has 
oeen  bitterness  to  their  palates  ever  afterwards. 
How  many,  or  rather,  how  few  adults  ever  revisit 
the  schoolhouse,  as  the  spot  of  early  and  endear- 
ing associations !  How  few  have  been  drawn  td 
it  by  the  tie  of  tender  and  delightful  recollections, 
as  a  far  wanderer  is  drawn  homeward  to  visit, 
with  tearful  eyes,  the  almost  holy  spot  where  his 
infancy  was  cradled,  where  he  slept  upon  his 
mother's  breast,  and  listened  to  the  councils  of 
his  father !  No  !  Vast  numbers  of  our  children, 
when  they  have  served  out  their  regular  term  in 
the  old,  cheerless  schoolroom,  and  are  leaving  it 
for  the  last  time,  have  shaken  the  dust  from  off 
their  feet,  as  a  testimony  against  it.  Were  the 
schoolroom  an  attractive  place,  why  should  it  be 
considered  as  so  extraordinary  an  exploit  in  a 
teacher,  to  get  the  fathers  and  mothers  of  the 
district  to  visit  their  own  children  in  it?  Even 
the  school  committee, — those  whose  official  duty 
it  was  to  visit,  and  watch  over  the  schools, — did 
not,  until  recently,  make  one-fourth  part  of  the 
25 


290 

visitations  required  by  law.  With  very  few  ex- 
ceptions, too,  it  was  ascertained  by  the  commit- 
tees, that,  although  the  law  had  prescribed  the 
number  of  visitations  which  they  should  make, 
yet  it  had  not  prescribed  their  length ;  and  the 
consequence  was,  that  the  longitude  of  their  visits 
was  inversely  as  the  latitude  of  their  construction. 

But  by  a  good  school  library,  the  faculty  of  the 
school  will  be  enlarged.  It  will  be  made  to  extend 
its  enlightening  influences  to  the  old  as  well  as  to 
the  young ;  because  every  inhabitant  of  the  dis- 
trict, under  such  conditions  as  may  be  deemed 
advisable,  should  be  allowed  to  participate  in  the 
benefits  of  the  library.  Hence  the  schoolhouse 
will  be  not  only  a  nursery  for  children,  but  a 
place  of  intelligent  resort  for  men.  The  school 
will  no  longer  be  an  institution  for  diffusing  the 
mere  rudiments  or  instrumentalities  of  knowledge, 
but  for  the  bountiful  diffusion  of  knowledge  itself. 
The  man  will  keep  up  his  relation  with  the  school, 
after  he  ceases  to  attend  it  as  a  scholar.  Though 
he  has  mastered  all  the  text  books  in  the  school- 
room, yet  he  will  not  have  outgrown  the  school, 
until  he  has  mastered  all  the  books  in  the  library. 

And  here  I  would  dispel  an  apprehension,  some- 
times felt,  that  children,  although  supplied  with 
suitable  books,  will  contract  no  fondness  for  them. 
Since  submitting  the  plan  to  the  Board  of  Educa- 
tion, for  the  establishment  of  school  libraries,  I 
have  sent  out  not  less  than  a  thousand  letters 
soliciting  information  respecting  the  existence, 
magnitude  and  quality  of  public  libraries  of  all 
kinds;  and  I  have  also  availed  myself  of  all 
opportunities  furnished  by  personal  intercourse, 
to  ascertain  the  habits  and  means  of  our  people, 
in  regard  to  reading.  After  all  these  oppoitu- 
nities  for  information,  I  am  able  to  say,  that  I 
have  never  heard  of  a  single  instance  where  a 
well  selected  library  for  children  has  run  down 


291 

or  run  out,  through  abandonment  or  indifference 
on  their  part.  I  have  heard  of  many  instances 
where  grown  people,  during  some  transient  spasm 
of  Hlerature  or  vanity,  have  collected  a  library 
for  themselves,  whose  books,  after  a  short  time, 
were  read,  as  bills  are  so  often  read  in  our  legis- 
lative bodies, — by  their  titles  only ;  and,  at  last, 
the  office  of  librarian  has  been  merged  in  that  of 
auctioneer.  But  I  have  never  known  one  such 
case  in  regard  to  children's  libraries. 

But  suppose  an  unfortunate  case  of  neglect  or 
abuse  of  the  library  privileges  should  sometimes, 
or  even  frequently  occur,  would  it  furnish  a  valid 
argument  against  the  measure?  Does  the  gar- 
dener refuse  to  plant  his  garden,  or  the  husband- 
man his  fields,  because  every  seed  that  he  casts 
into  the  earth  does  not  spring  up  and  yield  its 
thirty,  its  sixty,  or  its  hundred  fold  7  Nay,  if, 
through  accident  or  misfortune,  the  whole  ex- 
pected growth  fails,  does  he  not,  with  undimin- 
ished faith  and  alacrity,  commit  new  seed  to  the 
soil,  confiding  in  the  veracity  of  the  Promiser  and 
the  fulfilment  of  the  promise,  that,  if  ye  sow  boun- 
tifully, ye  shall  reap  also  bountifully. 

There  is  another  advantage  of  a  good  school 
library, — not  so  obvious,  perhaps,  as  those  already 
mentioned, — but  one  which  I  deem  of  no  small 
importance.  A  library  will  produce  one  effect 
upon  school  children,  and  upon  the  neighborhood 
generally,  before  they  have  read  one  of  the  books, 
and  even  if  they  should  never  read  one  of  them. 
It  is  in  this  way : — The  most  ignorant  are  the 
most  conceited.  Unless  a  man  knows  that  there 
is  something  more  to  be  known,  his  inference  is, 
of  course,  that  he  knows  every  thing.  Such  a 
man  always  usurps  the  throne  of  universal  knowl- 
edge, and  assumes  the  right  of  deciding  all  pos- 
sible questions.  We  all  know  that  a  conceited 
dunce  will   decide  questions  extemporanecoiRl* . 


292 

which  would  puzzle  a  college  of  philosophers,  ot 
a  bench  of  judges.  Ignorant  and  shallow-minded 
men  do  not  see  far  enough  to  see  the  difficulty. 
But  let  a  man  know  that  there  are  things  to  be 
known,  of  which  he  is  ignorant,  and  it  is  so  much 
carved  out  of  his  domain  of  universal  knowledge. 
And  for  all  purposes  of  individual  character,  as 
well  as  of  social  usefulness,  it  is  quite  as  impor- 
tant for  a  man  to  know  the  extent  of  his  own  igno- 
rance as  it  is  to  know  any  thing  else.  To  know 
how  much  there  is  that  we  do  not  know,  is  one 
of  the  most  valuable  parts  of  our  attainments ; 
for  such  knowledge  becomes  both  a  lesson  of 
humility  and  a  stimulus  to  exertion.  Let  it  be 
laid  down  as  a  universal  direction  to  teachers, 
when  students  are  becoming  proud  of  their  knowl- 
edge, to  spread  open  before  them  some  pages  of 
the  tremendous  volume  of  their  ignorance. 

Now  those  children  who  are  reared  without  any 
advantages  of  intelligent  company,  or  of  travel, 
or  of  books, — which  are  both  company  and  travel, 
— ^naturally  fall  into  the  error  of  supposing  that 
they  live  in  the  centre  of  the  world,  that  all  soci- 
ety is  like  their  society,  or,  if  different  from  theirs, 
that  it  must  be  wrong ;  and  they  come,  at  length, 
to  regard  any  part  of  this  vast  system  of  the  works 
of  man,  and  of  the  wisdom  of  God,  which  conflicts 
with  their  home-bred  notions,  as  baneful,  or  con- 
temptible, or  non-existent.  They  have  caught 
no  glimpse  of  the  various  and  sublime  sciences 
which  have  been  discovered  by  human  talent  and 
assiduity;  nor  of  those  infinitely  wise  and  beau- 
tiful laws  and  properties  of  the  visible  creation, 
in  which  the  Godhead  has  materialized  his  good- 
ness and  his  power,  in  order  to  make  them  per- 
ceptible to  our  senses ; — and  hence  they  naturally 
infer  that  they  know  all  knowable  things,  and 
have  "  learnt  out"  ; — that  they  have  exhausted  the 
fuhiess  of  Deity,  and  into  th^ir  nutshell  capacities 


293 

have  drained  dry  the  fountains  of  Omniscience. 
Now,  when  this  class  of  persons  go  out  into  the 
world  and  mingle  with  their  fellow-men,  they  are 
found  to  be  alike  useless,  on  account  of  their 
ignorance,  and  odious  for  their  presumption.  And 
if  a'  new  idea  can  be  projected  with  sufficient 
force  to  break  through  the  incrustations  of  folly 
and  prejudice  which  envelop  their  soul,  and  with 
sufficient  accuracy  of  aim  to  hit  so  small  a  globule, 
they  appear  as  ridiculous,  under  its  influence,  as 
did  the  mouse,  which  was  born  in  the  till  of  a 
chest,  and,  happening  one  day  to  rear  itself  upon 
its  hind-legs  and  to  look  over  into  the  body  of  the 
chest,  exclaimed,  in  amazement,  that  he  did  not 
think  the  universe  so  large !  A  library,  even 
before  it  is  read,  will  teach  people  that  there  is 
something  more  to  be  knowil. 

An  incidental  advantage  will  often  accrue  from 
this  library  enterprise,  which  I  cannot  pass  by  in 
silence.  Suppose  the  most  intelligent  and  respect- 
able portion  of  the  State  to  be  deeply  convinced 
of  the  expediency  of  a  school  library,  and,  there- 
fore, to  send  up  an  earnest  appeal  to  the  Legis- 
lature, for  some  assistance  or  bounty  to  enable  the 
districts  to  procure  one.  Suppose  that  the  Legis- 
lature should  offer  to  contribute  a  certain  sum,  on 
condition  that  the  districts  would  raise  an  equal 
sum,  for  the  purpose.  Doubtless,  on  the  part  of 
a  large  number  of  districts,  there  would  be  great 
alacrity  in  complying  with  the  conditions  pre- 
scribed. But  still,  the  number  of  districts  and 
even  of  towns  will  not  be  inconsiderable,  where 
Ignorance  and  Mammon  bear  such  sway,  that  the 
majority  of  voters  will  refuse  to  grant  even  this 
pittance  for  the  welfare  of  their  children.  It  is  in 
this  class  of  cases  that  the  incidental  advantages 
to  which  I  refer,  will  be  realized.  In  most  of 
such  districts  or  towns,  there  will  be  some  indi- 
Tidual  or  individuals, — of  narrow  means,  but  of  a 
25* 


294 

boundless  soul, — who  will  at  once  give  the  requi- 
site sum,  and  thus  secure  the  object.  Now  these 
occasional  or  special  opportunities  to  do  a  good 
deed,  are  of  inestimable  value.  They  stir  up  the 
generous  emotions  of  our  nature  from  a  depth, 
where  they  might  otherwise  have  lain  stagnant 
forever.  They  awaken  within  us  a  delightful 
surprise  at  our  own  capabilities  of  usefulness  and 
happiness.  Our  sordid  habit  is,  to  call  every 
unexpected  occurrence  of  good  fortune  happening 
to  ourselves,  a  god-send;  but  there  is  no  such 
god-send  as  the  divine  prompting  to  do  good  to 
others.  Let  an  unforeseen  occasion  of  beneficence 
be  presented  to  a  benevolent  man,  and  let  the 
merits  of  the  case  be  made  visible  to  him  by  their 
own  beautiful  light; — a  resolve  to  act,  at  once 
flashes  upon  his  misd,  and  the  generous  deed  is 
'^one; — not  done  from  ostentation,  or  the  love  of 
praise,  or  from  any  low  or  sordid  aim ;  but  done 
because  it  is  right  and  lovely  and  in  harmony 
with  his  better  nature;  and  lo !  in  the  bosom  of 
that  man  the  fountains  of  immortal  joy  burst 
open,  and  such  peace  and  gladness  and  exaltation 
pervade  and  dilate  his  soul,  that  he  would  not  bar- 
ter one  moment  of  their  fruition  for  an  eternity  of 
selfish  pleasures.  When  a  majority  of  the  district 
belong  to  the  firm  of  Hunks,  Shirk  &  Co.,  then 
Mr.  Goodman  must  supply  the  library,  and  the 
next  generation  will  rise  up  and  bless  him. 

The  effects  of  a  habit  of  reading,  in  furnishing 
home  and  fireside  attractions  for  children,  and 
thus  keeping  them  from  vicious  companions,  and 
from  places  of  vicious  resort,  are  so  obvious,  that 
I  shall  not  here  dwell  upon  them;  but  content 
myself  with  referring  to  one  more  of  the  unenu- 
merated  and  innumerable  advantages  of  a  well 
chosen  library  for  our  schools ; — I  mean  the  efli- 
cacy  of  good  books  in  expelling  bad  ones.  A  true 
friend  of  our  country  and  our  race  is  not  satisfied 


295 

with  knowing  that  we  are  a  reading  people; — he 
asks  impatiently,  what  it  is  that  we  read.  That 
there  is  an  alarming  amount  of  vain  and  per- 
nicious reading  in  our  community,  no  observing 
person  will  deny.  For  unchastened  imaginations 
and  perverted  morals,  there  is  a  fascination  in 
accounts  of  battles,  shipwrecks,  murders  and 
piracies ;  and  many  people  gloat  over  those  de- 
moralizing police  reports  in  the  newspapers,  in 
which  the  foul  scenes  of  darkness  and  depravity 
are  brought  to  light,  and  made  themes  for  jest  and 
merriment.  But  have  we  taught  children  to  read, 
for  the  sake  of  enlarging  their  acquaintance  with 
impurity  and  immorality  ?  Fiction,  too,  from  the 
plump  novel  of  two  volumes  to  the  lean  news- 
paper story  of  two  columns,  together  with  the 
contents  of  light  and  fanciful  periodicals,  consti- 
tutes the  staple  reading  of  a  vast  number  of  our 
people.  Now  I  believe  it  to  be  no  exaggeration  to 
say,  that  ninety-nine  parts  in  every  hundred  of 
all  the  novels  and  romances  extant,  are  as  false 
to  truth  and  nature,  to  all  verisimilitude  to  his- 
tory and  to  the  affairs  of  men,  as  though  they  had 
been  written,  not  by  lunarians,  but  by  lunatics 
themselves.  I  mean,  that,  if  we,  as  men  and 
women,  were  to  act  as  novel-writers  make  their 
men  and  women  act,  the  results  upon  our  fortunes 
and  lives  would  bear  no  resemblance  to  the  for- 
tunes and  lives  of  the  fictitious  personages  they 
describe.  The  novelist  makes  godlike  heroes  and 
benefactors  of  the  race,  of  those  who  never  studied 
and  toiled  and  sacrificed  for  the  welfare  of  man- 
kind; and,  just  so  far  as  he  does  this,  he  is  con- 
tradicted by  the  testimony  of  universal  history 
and  experience.  His  works  are  often  bloated  with 
a  maudlin  sentiment,  wholly  unkindred  and  alien 
to  that  healthy  humanity,  which,  by  the  combined 
action  of  intellect  and  benevolence,  not  only  per- 
ceives, but  fulfils  the  law  of  love.    Often,  too,  he 


296 

robes  impurity  in  the  garments  of  light,  and  thus 
sets  at  defiance  all  the  laws  of  the  moral  universe ; 
or,  he  deems  it  poetic  justice  to  reward  the  holy 
sacrifices  of  virtue  by  the  base  coin  of  worldly 
honors  or  wealth.  The  mind,  when  fed  on  mere 
fantasies  and  etherialities,  has  no  vigor  for  the 
stern  duties  of  life ;  it  is  borne  away  by  every 
illusion,  like  a  bulrush  upon  the  tide. 

The  prevalence  of  novel-reading  creates  a  host 
of  novel-writers ;  and  the  readers  and  writers,  by 
action  and  reaction,  increase  the  numbers  of  each 
other.  Hence  great  capacities  for  usefulness  are 
lost  to  the  world,  and  the  most  important  of  human 
duties  remain  unperformed.  For  many  of  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  Adam,  this  is  a  world  of  perplex- 
ity and  suflTering  and  inexpressible  anguish  ;  it  is 
a  world  where  innocent  nerves  are  laid  bare  to  all 
the  aggressions  of  want  and  disease,  and  where 
men  sink  into  pitfalls  of  ruin,  which  the  light  of 
a  little  knowledge  would  have  revealed,  and  from 
which  kindly  counsels  would  have  saved  them. 
What  is  worst  of  all, — it  is  a  world  where  guiltless 
children  are  led,  as  by  the  hand,  into  dangers  and 
temptations ;  or  rather,  they  are  propelled  into  dan- 
gers and  temptations,  by  forces  of  which  they  are 
unconscious,  and  over  which  they  have  no  control; 
and  in  these  perils  they  struggle  for  a  moment, 
and  then  sink  into  horrible  depths  of  crime  and 
wretchedness^  which,  by  an  unholy  influence, 
harden  our  hearts  against  them  as  much  as  they 
harden  their  hearts  against  virtue.  Society  is 
spotted  all  over  with  moral  leprosy ;  and  hot  tears, 
more  bitter  than  the  waters  of  Marah,  are  furrow- 
ing innocent  cheeks ;  and  while  this  actual  sin 
and  suffering  abound,  we  cannot  spare  the  finest 
geniuses  of  the  race  to  spend  their  lives  in  creating 
Worlds  of  Shadows ;  nor  can  we  allow  the  most 
educated  of  our  people  to  escape  from  the  great 
work  of   solacing  and  redeeming  mankind,  to 


297 

revel  in  the  brilliant  but  bodiless  realms  of  fancy. 
Every  hand  and  every  hour  should  be  devoted  to 
rescue  the  world  from  its  insanity  of  guilt,  and  to 
assuage  the  pangs  of  human  hearts  with  balm 
and  anodyne.  To  pity  distress  is  but  human  ;  to 
relieve  it  is  godlike.  But  I  have  never  found  that 
those  who  weep  most  freely  over  fictitious  pain, 
have  keener  susceptibilities  than  others  for  real 
woe.  What  an  absolute  inversion  of  the  whole 
moral  nature  does  it  suppose,  to  find  delight  in 
tracing  the  fortunes  of  imaginary  beings,  while 
living  in  the  midst  of  such  actual  sufferings  as 
ought  to  dissolve  the  soul  into  a  healing  balm  for 
their  relief,  without  recognizing  their  existence. 
It  is  said, 'indeed,  that  Dickens, — the  last  king 
\^hom  the  world  of  novel-readers  have  seated 
upon  their  precarious  throne, — has  attributes  of 
humanity  which  distinguish  him  from  his  prede- 
cessors. It  is  said  that  he  looks  over  and  beyond 
the  splendid  circles  of  opulence  and  fashion,  and 
selects  his  objects  of  interest  and  sympathy  from 
among  the  hitherto  outcast  and  forsaken  of  the 
world.  But  I  must  say  again,  that  I  have  not 
seen  any  fresh  outflowing  of  compassion,  any 
sweUing  of  the  scanty  rills  of  benevolence  towards 
the  poor,  the  ignorant,  the  helpless,  the  misguided, 
among  the  gay  and  affluent  circles  who  vindicate 
their  homage  to  this  new  sovereign,  because  he 
illumines  his  pages  with  the  glow  of  a  kindlier 
humanity.  To  those  who, — while  surrounded 
with  luxuries  and  superfluities,  and  defended  by 
golden  guards  against  cold  and  hunger,  and  all 
the  privations  and  temptations  of  poverty, — read, 
breathless  and  tearful,  the  story  ot  "  Little  Nell," 
let  me  say,  there  is  a  ''  Little  Nell"  in  the  next 
street,  or  at  the  next  door,  of  you  all, — some 
hapless  child,  cast,  desolate  and  forlorn,  upon  the 
bleak  shores  of  Time,  having  no  friend  in  the 
abandoned  mother  that  bore  her,  and  wandering, 


298 

through  all  the  years  of  infancy  and  childhood 
as  in  one  perpetual  and  tempestuous  night  of  fear 
and  suffering ;  while  the  opulent  and  the  educated, 
reclining  on  silken  couches,  in  splendid  saloons, 
expend  a  barren  sympathy  over  woes  that  never 
were  felt.  Throughout  our  land,  in  city  and  in 
sountry,  groups  and  companies  of  innocent  chil- 
dren,— the  offspring  of  intemperance  or  profligacy, 
— are  tossed  for  an  hour  upon  the  weltering  tide  of 
life  ;  but  hearing  no  voice  of  sympathy,  seeing  no 
hand  outstretched  for  their  deliverance,  they  sink 
to  rise  no  more. 

As  when  the  young  of  land-birds,  in  the  spring, 
Q,uit  the  warm  nest,  and  spread  the  untaught  wing. 
Some  whirlwind  blast,  descending  from  the  north. 
Wheels  them  on  high,  and  drives  them  furious  forth 
Far  out  to  sea.     Alas,  the  fated  brood  !  • 

The  empty  sky 's  above  ;  below,  the  yawning  flood 
Backward  they  turn  to  win  their  native  vale. 
And  strive,  with  desperate  wing,  to  stem  the  gale. 
In  vain  !    They  fall,  by  fear  and  toil  opprest, 
Till  the  rude  wave  assaults  their  throbbmg  breast. 
Once  more !  for  life  !  they  mount  with  piteous  cry, 
Then,  one  by  one,  they  fall,  they  shriek,  they  die ! 

Even  thus,  by  tens  and  by  hundreds,  perish  in- 
nocent children,  at  our  own  doors, — lost  to  all  the 
delights  of  life,  lost  in  the  deeper  perdition  of  the 
soul, — through  lack  of  human  sympathy  in  self- 
styled  Christians.  Such  children  are  the  victims 
of  temptations  and  exposures,  which,  to  all  moral 
intents,  they  are  as  incapable  of  resisting,  as  is 
the  half-fledged  young  of  the  land-bird,  to  defy 
the  mingled  might  of  ocean  and  storm.  Is  it  as 
noble,  is  it  as  like  the  Divine  Exemplar,  to  dote 
over  imaginary  creations  of  loveliness  and  purity, 
as  to  create  and  foster  that  loveliness  and  purity 
ourselves,  in  hearts  otherwise  perverted  and  lost? 
To  describe  possible  happiness,  or  linger  over 
its  enchanting  delineations,  is  it,  or  can  it  be, 
like  rescuing  children  from  the  very  throat  of 
the   whirlpool   which    is    carrying    them    down 


299 

to  destruction;  is  it  like  bestowing  happiness, 
by  our  own  efforts,  upon  our  sorrowing  fellow- 
mortals?  Look,  my  friends,  for  one  moment, 
around  you,  and  see  what  things  God  ac- 
complishes without  our  assistance ;  then  look 
again,  and  see  for  the  accomplishment  of  what 
things  God  honors  us  by  demanding  our  aid. 
To  combine  msensate  elements  into  a  flower ;  to 
spread  the  rainbow  across  the  dark  folds  of  the 
retreating  storm  ;  to  emblaze  the  deep  recesses  of 
the  firmament  with  new  constellations; — these 
works  God  has  left  to  blind  mechanical  and  or- 
ganic laws.  But  to  rear  the  amaranth  of  virtue 
for  a  celestial  soil ;  to  pale  the  diamond's  glow  by 
the  intenser  efl'ulgence  of  genius ;  to  pencil,  as  with 
living  flame,  a  rainbow  of  holy  promise  and  peace 
upon  the  blackness  and  despair  of  a  guilty  life ; 
to  fit  the  spirits  of  weak  and  erring  mortals  to  shine 
forever,  as  stars,  amid  the  Host  of  Heaven; — 
for  these  diviner  and  more  glorious  works,  God 
asks  our  aid ;  and  He  points  to  the  children  who 
have  been  evoked  into  life,  as  the  objects  of  our 
labor  and  care.  One  drop  of  baptismal  water 
poured  upon  the  infant's  head,  from  the  holy  font 
of  wisdom  and  love,  will  quench  more  of  the  fires 
of  guilt,  than  an  ocean  of  consecrated  waters  can 
afterwards  extinguish.  And  is  it  not  time  for  the 
self-styled  disciples  of  Christ  to  repel  the  bitter 
irony  of  their  name  7  Is  it  not  time  for  them  to 
imitate  the  Divine  Master  on  whose  name  they 
call,  and,  like  him,  surrender  the  pleasures  of 
luxury  and  sense,  that  they  may  go  about  doing 
good?  Is  it  not  time  for  them  to  seek  out  the 
children  of  wretchedness, — and  so  much  the  more 
as  they  are  the  more  wretched, — and  fold  them 
in  their  arms,  and  bless  them  by  instruction  and 
example  ?  The  garden  of  an  earthly  paradise  for 
mankind  can  never  be  entered  but  through  the 
garden  of  Gethsemane.    Yet  where  are  they  who 


300 

sweat  drops  of  blood  in  their  agony  for  the  Welfare 
of  the  race ;  where  are  they  who  spurn  the  honors 
and  distinctions  of  an  earthly  ambition,  and  say, 
of  the  proffered  empire  of  the  world,  that  it  is  an 
offence ;  where  are  they,  whose  striving  soul  sleep 
does  not  visit  at  the  coming  on  of  night,  whose 
head  is  pillowless,  though  surrounded  by  cham- 
bers of  oriental  magnificence,  and  who  enter  the 
path  of  duty,  with  unfaltering  step,  although  in 
the  vista's  distant  perspective  there  stands  the 
fatal  cross  7  If  Peter  were  one  of  us,  and  should 
stand  unconcerned  in  the  midst  of  the  rising  gen- 
eration, and  put  forth  no  helping  hand  to  succor 
them,  he  would  need  no  oath  to  seal  his  perfidy 
to  his  Master, — forsworn  by  apathy  alone! 

O!  how  forever  beautiful  and  divine  in  the 
sight  of  man ;  how  holy  in  the  eye  of  Heaven ; 
how  gladdening  in  the  retrospect  of  all  coming 
ages ;  if,  instead  of  surrendering  their  cultivated 
powers  to  the  dreams  and  fantasies  of  romance, 
the  daughters  of  opulence  and  leisure  would 
awaken  to  the  realities  of  the  only  true  and 
worthy  existence,  and  would  seek  an  enduring 
happiness, — where  they  would  be  sure  to  find  it, 
— in  carrying  knowledge  and  virtue  and  joy  to  the 
children  of  poverty  and  wretchedness.  Let  them 
lead  these  darkling  wanderers  to  the  joyful  light 
of  knowledge.  Let  them  shake  free  the  wings  of 
immortal  spirits,  now  so  clogged  with  the  mire  of 
earth,  that  they  cannot  soar  upward  to  heaven. 
Beneath  the  feet  of  such  angel  ministers,  as  they 
go  on  their  errands  of  mercy  and  love,  the  very 
earth  is  hallowed ;  and  the  air  is  made  fragrant 
and  luminous  by  their  tones  and  smiles  of  affec- 
tion. Surely,  no  thanksgiving  offered  to  God  can 
be  so  grateful  as  deeds  of  charity  done  to  suffer- 
ing childhood. 

But  how,  I  ask,  can  that  pernicious  reading, 
which  has  done  at  least  as  much  as  any  thing 


301 

else,  to  separate  feeling  from  action,  to  sever  the 
natural  connection  between  benevolent  impulses 
and  benevolent  deeds,  to  dissociate  emotions  of 
pity  for  distress  from  a  desire  to  succor  and 
relieve  it, — how  can  the  flood  of  this  reading  be 
stayed  ?  I  answer,  that  much  can  be  done  by  the 
substitution  of  books  and  studies  which  expound 
human  life  and  human  duty,  as  God  has  made 
them  to  be.  Neither  by  the  force  of  public  opinion, 
nor  by  any  enactment  of  the  Sovereign  Legisla- 
ture, can  the  noxious  works  which  now  infest  the 
community  be  gathered  into  one  Alexandrian 
pile,  and  by  the  application  of  one  torch,  the 
earth  be  purified  from  their  contaminations.  No  ! 
It  must  be  done,  if  done  at  all, — in  the  expressive 
language  of  Dr.  Chalmers, — "by  the  expulsive 
power  of  a  new  affection."  A  purer  current  of 
thought  at  the  fountain  can  alone  wash  the  chan- 
nels clean.  For  this  purpose,  I  know  of  no  plan, 
as  yet  conceived  by  philanthropy,  which  prom- 
ises to  be  so  comprehensive  and  efficacious,  as 
the  establishment  of  good  libraries  in  all  our 
school  districts,  open  respectively  to  all  the  chil- 
dren in  the  State,  and  within  half  an  hour's  walk 
of  any  spot  upon  its  surface. 


Note,  On  the  3d  day  of  March,  1 842,  the  Le^slaturc  passed  a  Re- 
solve offering  a  lK)unty  of  tiS,  to  each  school  dislnct  in  the  State,  which 
would  appropriate  $15, — both  suras  to  be  expended  for  the  purchase 
of  a  school  library.  By  subscouent  Resolves,  enlarging  the  provisions 
of  the  former,  it  is  now  provided  that  where  a  district  contains  more 
than  twice  sixty  children,  three  times  sixty,  &c.,  it  may  draw  as 
many  times  tl5  from  the  State  Treasury,  as  tne  number  sixty  is  con- 
tained in  the  number  of  its  children,  on  condition  of  raising  an  equal 
sum.  Towns  not  districted  may  draw  in  the  same  proportion.  A 
ifreat  majority  of  the  districts  in  the  State  have  already  availed  them- 
•elrea  of  the  privileges  of  these  Resolves. 

26 


LECTURE  VII. 

ON   SCHOOL  PUNISHMENTS. 

My  subject  is,  Punishment^  and,  more  es- 
pecially, Corporal  Punishment,  in  our  schools. 
Important  questions  are  agitated,  respecting  its 
rightfulness  and  expediency,  under  any  circum- 
stances ;  and,  if  rightful  and  expedient,  at  all, 
then  respecting  its  mode,  its  extent,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  it  should  be  inflicted.  I 
despair  of  reconciling  the  conflicting  opinions 
which  are  entertained  on  these  topics ;  but  may  I 
not  hope  to  elucidate  some  points,  pertaining  to 
them,  and  perhaps  to  lessen  the  distance  between 
the  extremes  of  doctrine  now  existing  amongst 
us? 

All  punishment,  considered  by  itself,  is  an  evil. 
In  other  words,  all  pain,  considered  by  itself,  is  an 
evil ;  and  the  immediate  object  of  punishment  is 
the  infliction  of  pain.  I  think  that  no  one  who 
does  not  altogether  deny  the  existence  of  evil, 
will  deny  that  pain,  abstracted  from  all  ante- 
cedents and  consequences,  is  evil ;  and,  if  any  one 
denies  that  evil  exists,  I  answer  him  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Soame  Jenyns,  •'  let  him  have  the  tooth- 
ache, or  get  into  a  law-suit."  The  ultimate  object 
of  punishment  is  to  avert  an  evil  greater  than 
itself  We  justify  ourselves  for  inflicting  it, — not 
because  it  is  a  pleasure  to  us  to  do  so, — for  that 
would  be  diabolical;  nor  wholly  because  the 
culprit  deserves  it ;  for  if  we  could  arrest  him  and 


304 

reform  him,  as  well  without  the  infliction  of  pain 
as  with  it,  no  benevolent  man  would  prescribe  the 
pain ;  and,  amongst  all  civilized  nations,  when  a 
malefactor,  who  has  been  condemned  to  death, 
becomes  insane,  he  is  respited  until  reason  is  re- 
stored ;  although  it  is  clear  that  the  loss  of  reason 
cannot  expiate  the  past  offence,  and,  therefore, 
that  the  deserts  of  the  transgressor  remain  the  same 
as  before.  We  do  not  then  inflict  punishment 
wholly  because  it  is  deserved ;  but  we  inflict  it 
that  we  may  ward  off"  a  greater  evil  by  a  less 
one, — a  permanent  evil  by  a  temporary  one.  We 
administer  it,  only  as  a  physician  sometimes  ad- 
ministers poison  to  a  sick  man, — not  because 
poison  is  congenial  to  the  healthy  system,  nor, 
indeed,  because  poison  is  congenial  to  the  diseased 
system ;  but  because  it  promises  to  arrest  a  fatal 
malady  until  appropriate  remedial  measures  can 
be  taken.  Would  any  person  be  upheld  or  ap- 
proved, by  a  sane  community,  for  inflicting  the 
pain  of  punishment  upon  a  child,  when  he  could 
have  produced  the  desired  object  as  well  without 
it?  Punishment,  then,  taken  hy  itself^  is  always 
to  be  considered  as  an  evil.  The  practical  deduc- 
tion from  this  principle,  is,  that  the  evil  of  pun- 
ishment should  always  be  compared  with  the 
evil  proposed  to  be  removed  by  it ;  and,  in  those 
cases  only,  where  the  evil  removed  preponderates 
over  the  evil  caused,  is  punishment  to  be  tolerated. 
The  opposite  course  would  purchase  exemption 
from  a  less  evil,  by  voluntarily  incurring  a  greater 
one. 

These  principles  seem  clear,  and  for  their  sup- 
port I  believe  we  have  the  concurrent  opinion 
of  all  writers  of  any  note,  on  jurisprudence  or 
ethics,  and  of  all  sensible  men.  In  following  out 
these  principles  to  their  appHcation,  I  fear  I  may 
fall  into  error ;  and  I  proceed,  with  unfeigned 
diflidence,  to  a  further  development  of  my  views. 


305 

Should  I  differ  from  others,  I  only  ask, — what  I 
am  most  ready,  on  my  own  part,  to  give, — a  candid 
reconsideration  of  the  points  of  disagreement. 

Let  me  premise,  that  there  are  two  or  three  pe- 
culiar difficulties  attending  the  discussion  of  this 
subject.  If  the  truth  lies,  as  I  believe  it  does,  in 
the  mean  and  not  in  either  of  the  extremes,  then 
those  ultraists  who  believe  in  the  doctrine  either 
of  no-punishment,  or  of  all-punishment,  will  be 
prone  to  seize  upon  arguments  or  concessions,  on 
their  own  side,  to  reject  those  on  the  other  side, 
and  thus  confirm  themselves  in  their  respective 
ultraisms ;  and  perhaps,  at  the  same  time,  bring 
forward  a  charge  of  inconsistency.  Probably  there 
is  no  subject,  which  it  is  more  difficult  for  a 
speaker  to  balance  well  in  his  own  mind,  and  to 
leave  well-balanced  in  the  minds  of  his  hearers. 

Again;  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  most  men 
have  formed  their  opinions  on  the  subject  of  pun- 
ishment, more  from  feeling  and  less  from  reflec- 
tion, than  perhaps  on  any  other  subject  what- 
ever. In  conversing  upon  this  topic,  I  have 
almost  uniformly  observed,  that  my  collocutor  has 
advanced  positive,  decided  general  opinions,  and 
then  adverted  to  some  particular  fact,  in  his  own 
experience  or  observation,  on  which  the  general 
opinions  had  been  founded.  But  sound  opinions 
are  usually  the  result  of  an  extended  survey  of 
facts.  Here,  however,  the  intensity  with  which 
a  single  fact  has  been  felt  is  a  substitute  for  num- 
bers. The  judgment  of  many  a  man  has  been  de- 
cided,— if  not  enlightened, — respecting  the  whole 
subject  of  punishment,  by  one  vivid  impression 
made,  while  a  schoolboy,  on  his  back  or  hand. 
Two  boys  fight.  One  of  them  gets  seriously 
injured.  The  schoolmaster  punishes  the  victor. 
The  vanquished  boy  and  his  parents  approve  the 
avenging  dispensation,  and  become  strenuous  ad- 
vocates for  high-toned  discipline.  The  victorious, 
26* 


306 

but  punished  boy,  with  his  parents,  question  the 
policy,  perhaps  deny  altogether  the  right  of  chas- 
tisement. And  thus,  the  same  fact  gives  rise  to 
opposite  opinions,  according  to  the  relation  sus- 
tained towards  it  by  the  parties. 

Probably  on  no  other  subject,  pertaining  to 
Education,  is  there  so  marked  a  diversity  or  rather 
hostility  of  opinion,  as  on  this ;  nor  on  any  other, 
such  perseverance,  not  to  say  obstinacy,  in  adher- 
ing to  opinions  once  formed.  Where  feeling  pre- 
dominates, there  is  a  strong  tendency  to  ultraism ; 
and  questions  respecting  punishment  are  more 
often  decided  by  sensation  than  by  reflection. 
Hence  the  extremes  to  which  opinions  run,  and 
the  positiveness  and  dogmatism  with  which  they 
are  advocated  by  the  partisans  of  each  side.  In 
the  public  station  which  it  is  my  lot  to  fill,  I  have 
been  present  at  many  discussions  on  this  subject, 
and  have  held  conversation  and  correspondence 
respecting  it  with  a  great  number  of  individuals, 
in  all  parts  of  the  Commonwealth  ;  and  I  find  one 
party  strenuously  maintaining,  that  improvement 
in  our  schools  can  advance  only  so  far  and  so  fast 
as  bodily  chastisement  recedes,  while  the  other 
party  regard  a  teacher  or  a  parent,  divested  of  his 
instruments  of  pain,  as  a  discrowned  monarch. 
It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  judging  from  their 
tone  of  earnestness  and  confidence,  that  there  are 
men  who  would  destroy  all  trees  and  shrubbery 
in  order  to  abolish  the  means  of  flagellation,  while 
others  seem  devoutly  to  believe  that  a  good  supply 
of  the  materials  for  whipping  is  the  final  cause  for 
trees'  growing;  and  they  would  always  locate  a 
schoolhouse  in  convenient  vicinity  to  a  hickory  or 
birchen  grove, — not  for  the  shade,  but  for  the  sub- 
stance. 

The  first  point  which  I  shall  consider,  is, 
whether  corporal  punishment  is  ever  necessary  in 
our  schools.     As  preliminary  to  a  decision  of  this 


307 

question,  let  us  take  a  brief  survey  of  facts.  We 
have,  in  this  Commonwealth,  about  one  hundred 
and  eighty  thousand^^  children  between  the  ages 
of  four  and  sixteen  years.  All  these  children  are 
not  only  legally  entitled  to  attend  our  public 
schools,  but  it  is  our  great  desire  to  increase  that 
attendance,  and  he  who  increases  it  is  regarded 
as  a  reformer.  All  that  portion  of  these  children 
who  attend  school,  enter  it  from  that  vast  variety 
of  homes  which  exist  in  the  State.  From  different 
households,  where  the  widest  diversity  of  paren- 
tal and  domestic  influences  prevails,  the  children 
enter  the  schoolroom,  where  there  must  be  compar- 
ative uniformity.  At  home,  some  of  these  children 
have  been  indulged  in  every  wish,  flattered  and 
smiled  upon,  for  the  energy  of  their  low  propen- 
sities, and  even  their  freaks  and  whims  enacted 
into  household  laws.  Some  have  been  so  rigor- 
ously debarred  from  every  innocent  amusement 
and  indulgence,  that  they  have  opened  for  them- 
selves a  way  to  gratification,  through  artifice  and 
treachery  and  falsehood.  Others,  from  vicious 
parental  example,  and  the  corrupting  influences 
of  vile  associates,  have  been  trained  to  bad  habits 
and  contaminated  with  vicious  principles,  ever 
since  they  were  born; — some  being  taught  that 
honor  consists  in  whipping  a  boy  larger  than 
themselves ;  others  that  the  chief  end  of  man  is 
to  own  a  box  that  cannot  be  opened,  and  to  get 
money  enough  to  fill  it;  and  others  again  have 
been  taught,  upon  their  father's  knees,  to  shape 
their  young  lips  to  the  utterance  of  oaths  and 
blasphemy.  Now,  all  these  dispositions,  which  do 
not  conflict  with  right  more  than  they  do  with 
each  other,  as  soon  as  they  cross  the  threshold 
of  the  schoolroom,  from  the  diflerent  worlds,  as  it 
were,  of  homes,  must  be  made  to  obey  the  same 

♦  Now,  (1846,)  above  192,000. 


308 

general  regulations,  to  pursue  the  same  studies, 
and  to  aim  at  the  same  results.  In  addition  to 
these  artificial  varieties,  there  are  the  natural  dif- 
ferences of  temperament  and  disposition. 

Again;  there  are  about  three  thousand  public 
schools  in  the  State,  in  which  are  employed,  in 
the  course  of  the  year,  about  five  thousand  differ- 
ent persons,  as  teachers,  including  both  males  and 
females.  Excepting  a  very  few  cases,  these  five 
thousand  persons  have  had  no  special  preparation 
or  training  for  their  employment,  and  many  of  them 
are  young  and  without  experience.  These  five 
thousand  teachers,  then,  so  many  of  whom  are 
unprepared,  are  to  be  placed  in  authority  over  the 
one  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  children,  so 
many  of  whom  have  been  perverted.  Without 
passing  through  any  transition  state,  for  improve- 
ment, these  parties  meet  each  other  in  the  school- 
room, where  mutiny  and  insubordination  and 
disobedience  are  to  be  repressed,  order  main- 
tained, knowledge  acquired.  He,  therefore,  who 
denies  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  punishment, 
in  our  schools, — and  to  corporal  punishment,  too, 
— virtually  affirms  two  things : — first,  that  this 
great  number  of  children,  scooped  up  from  all 
places,  taken  at  all  ages  and  in  all  conditions, 
can  be  deterred  from  the  wrong  and  attracted  to 
the  right,  without  punishment ;  and  secondly,  he 
asserts  that  the  five  thousand  persons  whom  the 
towns  and  districts  employ  to  keep  their  respec- 
tive schools,  are  now,  and  in  the  present  condition 
of  things,  able  to  accomplish  so  glorious  a  work. 
Neither  of  these  prv,positions  am  I,  at  present,  pre- 
pared to  admit.  If  there  are  extraordinary  indi- 
viduals,— and  we  know  there  are  such, — so  sin- 
gularly gifted  with  talent  and  resources,  and  with 
the  divine  quality  of  love,  that  they  can  win  the 
affection,  and,  by  controlling  the  heart,  can  con- 
trol the  conduct  of  children,  who,  for  years,  have 


309 

been  addicted  to  lie,  to  cheat,  to  swear,  to  steal, 
to  fight,  still  I  do  not  believe  there  are  now  five 
thousand  such  individuals  in  the  State,  whose 
heavenly  services  can  be  obtained  for  this  trans- 
forming work.  And  it  is  useless,  or  worse  than 
useless,  to  say,  that  such  or  such  a  thing  can  be 
done,  and  done  immediately,  without  pointing 
out  the  agents  by  whom  it  can  be  done.  One 
who  affirms  that  a  thing  can  be  done,  withour 
any  reference  to  the  persons  who  can  do  it,  must 
be  thinking  of  miracles.  If  the  position  were,  that 
children  may  be  so  educated  from  their  birth,  and 
teachers  may  be  so  trained  for  their  calling,  as  to 
supersede  the  necessity  of  corporal  punishment, 
except  in  cases  decidedly  monstrous,  then  I  should 
have  no  doubt  of  its  truth ;  but  such  a  position 
must  have  reference  to  some  future  period,  which 
we  should  strive  to  hasten,  but  ought  not  to  an- 
ticipate. 

Coinciding,  then,  with  those  who  assert  the 
necessity  of  occasional  punishment,  and  even  of 
occasional  corporal  punishment,  in  our  schools,  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  more  strenuous  of  its  advo- 
cates are  disposed  to  give  too  latitudinarian  a 
construction  to  one  argument  in  its  favor.  They 
quote  and  apply,  as  though  there  were  no  quali- 
fication or  limit  to  their  applicability,  such  pas- 
sages as  these  from  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon  : — 
^'  He  that  spareth  the  rod,  hateth  his  son,  but  he 
that  loveth  him  chastiseth  him  betimes."  "  Fool- 
ishness is  bound  in  the  heart  of  a  child,  but  the 
rod  of  correction  shall  drive  it  far  from  him.'* 
"  Withhold  not  correction  from  the  child,  for  if 
thou  beatest  him  with  the  rod,  he  shall  not  die." 
"  Thou  shalt  beat  him  with  a  rod  and  shalt  deliver 
his  soul  from  hell."  "The  rod  and  reproof  give 
wisdom,"  &c.,  &c.  Now  if  these  passages,  and 
such  as  these,  are  applicable,  in  their  unqualified 
and  literal  sense,  to  our  times,  then,  indeed,  we 


310 

must  admit  that  the  rod  is  the  embkan  of  all  the 
Christian  graces.  But,  by  the  Mosaic  law,  he 
that  smote  his  father  or  his  mother,  was  to  be  put 
to  death ;  and  why  is  there  not  as  much  reason 
to  suppose  that  the  latter  of  these  commands 
remains  unabrogated  and  unqualified,  as  well  as 
the  former ;  and,  therefore,  that  the  true  remedy 
for  those  who  now  make  forcible  resistance  to 
parental  control,  is,  not  the  House  of  Reformation 
for  juvenile  offenders,  but  the  gallows  7  But  can 
any  one  suppose  that  the  passages  above  cited, 
and  others  of  a  kindred  nature,  were  to  be  taken 
without  any  qualification,  even  in  the  age  in 
which  they  were  written  7  Can  any  one  suppose 
that  they  were  designed  for  all  children  alike,  and 
to  be  exclusive  of  all  other  practicable  means  to 
deter  from  wrong  doing  7  And  yet,  there  is  no 
express  limitation.  If  alike  applicable  to  all  chil- 
dren, at  that  time,  and  if  they  remain  unmodified, 
then,  they  are  applicable  to  all  children,  and  alike, 
at  the  present  time.  But  again,  I  say,  can  any 
one  suppose  that  the  domestic  discipline  of  a  peo- 
ple, like  the  stiff-necked  Jews,  so  accustomed  to 
spectacles  and  histories  of  blood  and  carnage ;  by 
whose  code  so  many  offences  were  capital ;  who 
massacred  men,  women  and  children, — whole 
cities  at  a  time, — and  sawed  asunder  their  prison- 
ers, and  tore  them  to  pieces  under  harrows  of 
iron ; — can  any  one  suppose  that  modes  of  paren- 
tal discipline,  in  a  land  rife  and  red  with  such 
spectacles,  are  to  be  literally  copied  in  a  state  of 
civilization  so  different  as  ours,  without  the  most 
positive  and  unambiguous  injunctions  7  One  fact 
is  worthy  of  remark  in  passing.  If  the  doctrines 
of  Solomon  are  to  be  taken  literally,  then  he  must 
have  departed  from  them  most  egregiously,  in 
regard  to  his  own  household ;  or  those  doctrines 
must  have  failed  of  their  intended  effect,  for  his 
son  and  his  grandson  proved  to  be  two  of  the 


311 

most  atrocious  and  heaven-contemning  sinners, 
.that  ever  sat  upon  the  throne  at  Jerusalem. 

There  is  one  school,  however,  where  I  would 
give  to  these  declarations  of  Solomon,  the  freest 
interpretation,  applying  them  to  all  its  pupils,  and 
shivering  rods  by  the  bundle, — that  is,  the  School 
for  Scandal.  There,  let  the  motto  be,  ''  Lay  on, 
Macduff." 

But  a  conclusion  in  favor  of  the  rightfulness 
or  admissibility  of  punishment,  in  school,  does 
nothing  towards  sanctioning  an  indefinite  amount 
of  it.  Its  rightfulness  is  limited  by  its  object ; 
and  its  only  justifiable  object  is  to  restrain  from 
the  commission  of  offences,  until  remedial  means 
can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  offender.  Be- 
yond this  limit,  punishment  becomes  punishable 
itself  The  object  of  punishment  is,  prevention 
from  evil ;  it  never  can  be  made  impulsive  to 
good.  Its  ofiice  is  to  seize  upon  the  contemner  of 
laws,  and  stop  him  in  his  career  of  wrong,  and 
hold  him  still,  until  by  earnest  expostulation,  by 
kind  advice,  by  affectionate  persuasion,  by  a  clear 
display  of  the  nature  of  the  offence  committed, 
and  the  duty  and  the  benefits  of  an  opposite 
course,  the  offender  can  be  led  to  inward  repent- 
ance, and  to  resolutions  of  amendment.  To  pro- 
duce such  repentance  and  resolutions,  is  a  work 
of  time,  of  skill,  of  wisdom,  of  sympathy.  It  is  a 
work  which  cannot  be  done  in  a  minute,  and  it  is 
because  it  cannot  be  done  in  a  minute,  that  pun- 
ishment becomes  justifiable,  as  a  means  of  pre- 
venting a  continuance  or  repetition  of  the  wrong, 
until  a  reformation  can  be  effected  in  the  culprit's 
mind.  In  all  cases,  therefore,  the  very  fact  of 
punishment  supposes  that  a  great  deal  else  is  to 
be  done.  By  punishment,  the  offender  is  inter- 
cepted in  the  commission  or  the  pursuit  of  wrong; 
but  it  is  a  wholly  different  task,  and  accomplished 
by  wholly  different  means,  to  bring  him  back  to 


312 

the  right,  and  to  make  him  see  it  and  love  it. 
Whoever,  then,  inflicts  punishment,  and  stops 
there,  omits  the  weightiest  part  of  his  duty ;  and 
such  omission  goes  far  to  take  away  all  justifica- 
tion for  the  punishment  itself 

I  have  said  that  punishment,  in  itself,  and 
abstracted  from  its  hoped-for  consequences,  is 
always  an  evil.  I  wish  to  add  a  few  considera- 
tions showing  that  it  is  a  very  great  evil. 

Punishment  excites  fear ;  it  is,  indeed,  the  pri- 
mary object  of  punishment  to  excite  fear  ;  and 
fear  is  a  most  debasing,  dementalizing  passion. 
It  may  be  proper  to  say,  that  I  use  the  word  fear, 
in  this  connection,  as  implying  an  intense  activ- 
ity of  cautiousness,  or  apprehension  for  personal 
safety ;  and  not  as  partaking  at  all  of  the  idea  of 
reverence  or  awe,  in  which  sense  it  is  sometimes 
used,  in  reference  to  the  Supreme  Being, — as  when 
it  is  said,  "  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning 
of  wisdom."  It  is  the  former  species  of  fear  only 
that  is  appealed  to  by  the  infliction  of  pain,  and 
not  one  of  the  virtues  ever  grows  under  the  influ- 
ence of  that  kind  of  fear.  Such  fear  may  check 
the  growth  of  vices,  it  is  true;  and  this  is  the 
strongest  remark  that  can  be  made  in  its  defence ; 
but  it  has,  at  the  same  time,  a  direct  tendency  to 
check  the  growth  of  every  virtue,  because  fear  of 
pain  is  not  an  atmosphere  in  which  the  virtues 
flourish ;  so  that  even  the  negative  good  which  it 
produces,  in  deterring  from  wrong,  is  accompanied 
by  the  infliction  of  some  positive  harm.  Let  any 
person  revert  to  his  own  experience,  and  then 
answer  the  question,  whether  he  was  as  compe- 
tent to  think  clearly,  or  to  act  wisely,  when  under 
the  influence  of  fear,  as  when  calm  and  self-pos- 
sessed. Fear  may  make  a  man  run  faster,  but  it 
is  always  from,  not  ioicards  the  post  of  duty. 
Look  at  a  man  in  an  agony  of  fear ;  he  is  power- 
less, paralyzed,  bereft  of  his  senses,  and  almost 


313 

reduced  to  idiocy,  so  that,  for  the  time  being,  he 
might  as  well  be  without  limbs  and  without  facul- 
ties as  to  have  them.  It  is  said  that  even  the  hair 
of  the  head  will  turn  gray,  in  five  minutes,  under 
the  boiling  bleachery  of  a  paroxysm  of  fear.  There 
have  been  many  cases  where  adults, — men  whose 
minds  had  acquired  some  constancy  and  firm- 
ness,— have  been  made  fools  for  life  by  sudden 
fright, — annulled  at  once,  their  brains  turned 
into  ashes  by  its  consuming  fires.  And  if  such 
are  the  consequences  of  intense  fear  in  grown 
men,  what  must  be  the  effect  upon  the  delicate 
texture  of  a  child's  brain,  when,  with  weapon  in 
hand,  a  brawny,  whiskered  madman  flies  at  the 
object  of  his  wrath,  as  a  fierce  kite  pounces  upon 
a  timorous  dove?  Yet  who  of  us  that  has  reached 
middle  age  has  not  seen  these  atrocities  committed 
against  children,  again  and  again  7 

Another  consideration,  showing  punishment  to 
be  a  very  great  evil,  is,  that  the  fear  of  bodily 
pain,  which  it  proposes,  makes  the  character  pusil- 
lanimous and  ignoble.  Children  should  be  trained 
to  a  disregard,  and  even  a  contempt  of  bodily  pain, 
so  that  they  may  not  be  unnerved  and  unmanned 
at  the  very  exigencies,  when,  in  after-life,  forti- 
tude and  intrepidity  become  indispensable  to  the 
performance  of  duty.  Some  foolishly-tender  par- 
ents commit  a  great  mistake  when  they  fuss  and 
flurry,  and  gather  the  whole  household  around, 
at  every  little  rub  or  scratch  received  by  a  child ; 
and  bring  out  their  apparatus  of  lint  and  lini- 
ment,— enough  for  the  surgeon  of  a  man-of-war, 
in  a  naval  engagement.  Sensitiveness  to  bodily 
pain  should  be  discountenanced,  because  it  impairs 
manliness  and  steadfastness  of  character.  Chil- 
dren should  be  taught  that  corporal  suffering,  and 
imprisonment,  and  death  itself;  arc  nothing,  com- 

{)ared  with  loyalty  to  truth  and  the  godlike  excel- 
ence  of  well  doing,  so  that  when  they  become 
27 


314 

men  they  will  be  able  to  march,  with  unfaltering 
step,  to  the  post  of  duty,  though  their  path  is 
enfiladed  by  a  hundred  batteries.  But  keeping 
the  idea  of  bodily  pain  forever  present  to  a  child's 
mind  counterworks  this  result.  Indeed,  a  child 
who  is  whipped  much  will  inevitably  be  driven  into 
one  or  the  other  of  two  ruinous  extremes.  Which 
of  the  extremes  it  shall  be,  will  depend  upon  the 
feebleness  or  the  vigor  of  his  natural  disposition. 
If  constitutionally  of  a  timid  and  irresolute  char- 
acter, then  frequent  correction  will  excite  his  cau- 
tiousness to  such  a  morbid  activity  that  his  cheek 
will  blanch  and  his  heart  quail  at  the  slightest 
menace  of  real  dangers,  or  the  imagination  of 
unreal  ones;  and  he  will  go  through  life  trem- 
bling with  causeless  apprehensions,  and  incapa- 
ble of  recovering  from  one  shudder  of  fear  before 
he  will  be  seized  by  another; — incapable  of  all 
manly  resolution  and  heroism.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  child  has  an  energetic  will,  the  very 
vehemence  of  which  prompts  to  disobedience 
and  waywardness,  then  frequency  of  chastise- 
ment will  exasperate  his  nature,  and  make  him 
recklessly  bold  and  fool-hardy.  It  will  make  him 
despise  the  gentleness  that  belongs  to  a  noble 
spirit,  and  mistake  ferocity  for  courage.  Now, 
what  requital  can  any  teacher  make,  which  shall 
be  an  adequate  compensation  to  a  child  for  caus- 
ing his  dispositions  to  grow  into  a  deformity 
which  shall  be  a  torment  and  a  disgrace  to  him 
while  life  lasts  7  Have  you  never  seen  an  aged 
tree  whose  trunk  still  bore  the  mark  where  some 
heedless  man  had  struck  his  axe  while  it  was  yet 
young,  and  have  you  not  observed  that,  on  the 
wounded  side  of  the  tree,  the  foliage  was  sickly 
and  the  branches  scraggy  and  misshapen,  while  a 
superabundance  of  nutriment  sent  up  on  the  other 
side  had  made  the  limbs  shoot  out  into  huge  dis- 
proportions 7    Such  wounds  are  inflicted  by  un- 


315 

necessary   punishment,    upon   the   whole    moral 
nature  of  a  child. 

But  there  is  another  consideration,  of  still  more 
serious  import.  A  teacher's  duty  is  by  no  means 
restricted  to  the  mere  communication  of  knowl- 
edge. He  is  to  superintend  the  growth  of  his  pupils' 
minds.  These  minds  consist  of  various  powers 
and  faculties,  by  which  they  are  adapted  to  the 
various  necessities,  relations  and  duties  of  life. 
Some  of  them  were  given  us  for  self-preservation. 
The  object  of  these  is,  ourselves, — our  own  exist- 
ence, our  own  sustenance,  our  own  exemption 
from  pain,  and  protection  against  danger  and  loss; 
— in  fine,  our  personal  well-being.  Other  powers 
are  domestic  and  social  in  their  nature, — such  as 
the  reciprocal  love  of  parents  and  children ;  the 
celestial  zone  of  affection  that  binds  brothers  and 
sisters  into  one;  and  our  attachment  to  friends, 
which,  under  proper  cultivation,  enlarges  into  fra- 
ternal affection  for  the  race.  We  also  have  moral 
and  religious  sentiments,  which  may  be  exalted 
into  a  solemn  feeUng  of  duty  towards  man  aad 
towards  God.  Now,  it  is  a  most  responsible  part 
of  the  teacher's  duty  to  superintend  the  growth  of 
these  manifold  powers,  and  to  develop  them  sym- 
metrically and  harmoniously  ;  to  repress  some,  to 
cherish  others,  and  to  fashion  the  whole  into  beau- 
ty and  loveliness  as  they  grow.  A  child  should 
be  saved  from  being  so  selfish  as  to  disregard  the 
rights  of  others,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  from  being 
a  spendthrift  of  his  own.  He  should  be  saved 
from  being  so  proud  as  to  disdain  the  world,  or  so 
vain  as  to  go  through  the  world  beseeching  every 
body  to  praise  and  flatter  him.  He  should  be 
guarded  alike  against  being  so  devoted  to  his  own 
family  as  to  be  deaf  and  dead  to  all  social  claims  ; 
and  against  being  so  quixotically  social  as  to  run 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  to  bestow  the  bounty,  for 
which  his  own  family  and  neighborhood  are  suf- 


316 

fering.  In  fine,  the  teacher,  as  far  as  possible,  is 
so  to  educate  the  child,  that  when  he  becomes  a 
man,  all  his  various  faculties  shall  have  a  relative 
and  proportionate  activity  and  vigor,  instead  of 
his  being  nervously  excitable  on  one  side  of  his 
nature,  and  palsy-stricken  on  the  other.  This 
task  is  most  difficult,  and  it  requires  that  all  the 
lights  possible  should  shine  upon  the  work.  It  is 
very  easy  to  point  out  deformities  of  character,  as 
they  exhibit  themselves  glaringly  and  hideously  in 
manhood  ;  but  it  requires  great  perspicacity  to 
detect  the  early  tendencies  to  deformity,  and  the 
utmost  delicacy  and  felicity  of  touch  to  correct 
them.  If  a  full-grown  tree  is  ugly  or  misshapen, 
any  body  can  see  it,  but  it  is  only  the  skilful  cul- 
tivator who  can  foretell  and  forestall  its  irregu- 
lar tendencies  while  it  is  yet  young.  It  is  this 
duty  which  makes  the  office  of  a  teacher  a  sacred 
office.  The  teaching  of  A,  B,  C,  and  the  multiplica- 
tion table  has  no  quality  of  sacredness  in  it ;  but  if 
there  is  a  sacred  service,  a  holy  ministry  upon  earth, 
it  is  that  of  setting  a  just  bound  to  the  animal  ap- 
petites and  sensual  propensities  of  our  nature,  and 
quickening  into  life,  and  fostering  into  strength  all 
benevolent  and  devout  affections;  for  it  is  by  the 
relative  proportions  between  these  parts  of  its  na- 
ture, that  the  child  becomes  angel-like  or  fiend-like. 
Now,  that  the  teacher  may  cherish  what  grows 
too  slow,  and  check  what  grows  too  fast,  it  is 
indispensable  that  he  should  become  acquainted 
with  the  inmost  character  and  tendencies  of  his 
pupil.  The  pupil's  whole  mind  and  heart  should 
be  spread  out,  like  a  map,  before  the  teacher  for 
his  inspection.  The  teacher  should  be  able  to 
examine  this  map,  to  survey  it  on  all  sides  and  at 
any  time, — as  you  see  a  connoisseur  walk  round 
a  beautiful  statue  or  edifice,  that  he  may  commit 
all  its  proportions  to  memory.  And  here  comes 
the  evil  I  refer  to.     The  moment  a  child's  mind  is 


317 

strongly  affected  by  fear,  it  flies  instinctively  away 
and  hides  itself  in  the  deepest  recesses  it  can  find, 
— often  in  the  recesses  of  disingenuousness  and  per- 
fidy and  falsehood.  Instead  of  exhibiting  to  you 
his  whole  consciousness,  he  conceals  from  you  as 
much  of  it  as  he  can ;  or  he  deceptively  presents  to 
you  some  counterfeit  of  it,  instead  of  the  genuine. 
No  frighted  water-fowl,  whose  plumage  the  bul- 
let of  the  sportsman  has  just  grazed,  dives  quicker 
beneath  the  surface,  than  a  child's  spirit  darts 
from  your  eye  when  you  have  filled  it  with  the 
sentiment  of  fear.  And  your  communication  with 
that  child's  heart  is  at  an  end ; — on  whatever  side 
you  approach  him,  he  watches  you  and  flies,  and 
keeps  an  impassable  distance  between  you  and 
himself,  until  friendly  relations  are  reestablished 
between  you.  His  body  may  be  before  you,  but 
not  his  soul ;  or,  if  his  soul  ventures  to  peep  from 
its  hiding-place,  it  is  only  in  some  masquerade 
dress  of  deception,  which  he  supposes  may  avert 
your  anger.  So  long  as  this  relation  continues, 
whatever  you  do  to  him,  you  do  in  the  dark.  As 
he  has  ceased  to  show  you  what  he  is,  you  can- 
not know  what  he  needs,  and  what  will  best  befit 
his  condition.  When  was  there  ever  painter  or 
sculptor  so  skilful,  that  lie  could  paint  or  chisel 
without  seeing  the  canvass  or  the  marble  on 
which  he  wrought?  And  when  was  ever  a 
teacher  so  omniscient,  that  he  could  cultivate 
habits  and  character  aright,  unless  he  was  ad- 
mitted from  day  to  day  to  see  those  thoughts  and 
emotions  of  the  child,  whose  long  indulgence  will 
result  in  the  habits  and  character  of  the  man  ? 

A  child  should  always  be  encouraged  to  make 
known  all  his  doubts  and  difllculties,  both  of  an 
intellectual  and  of  a  moral  character ;  and,  if  won 
to  you  by  confidence  instead  of  being  banished 
from  you  by  fear,  he  will  generally  do  so.  If  a 
learner  does  not  state  his  doubt  or  difficulty,  at 
27* 


318 

the  time  he  feels  it,  the  season  will  pass  by,  per- 
haps never  to  return.  And  certainly  no  other 
time  can  be  so  favorable  for  acquiring  correct 
information,  or  for  solving  a  doubt,  as  the  time 
when  the  desire  or  the  doubt  arises  in  the  mind. 
Yet,  if  a  pupil  fears  even  a  rebuke  or  a  frown,  he 
will  allow  the  proper  occasions  to  pass  by,  at  the 
hazard  of  remaining  ignorant  forever. 

Are  not  these  considerations  sufficient  to  show 
that  punishment, — I  mean  more  particularly,  cor- 
poral punishment, — and  the  fear  which  punish- 
ment proposes,  constitute  a  great  evil  ?  Yet  great 
as  the  evil  is,  I  admit  that  it  is  less  than  the  evil 
of  insubordination  or  disobedience.  It  is  better, 
therefore,  to  tolerate  punishment,  in  cases  where 
the  teacher  has  no  other  resource,  than  to  suffer 
insubordination  or  disobedience  in  our  schools. 
Yet  how  infinitely  better,  to  secure  order  and 
proficiency,  by  the  power  of  conscience  and  the 
love  of  knowledge  ; — to  supersede  the  necessity 
of  violence  by  moral  means.  This  is  already 
done  in  a  considerable  number  of  schools  ;  I  trust 
it  is  done,  with  regard  to  some  scholars,  in  every 
school ; — that  is,  I  trust  there  are  at  least  some 
scholars,  in  every  school  in  the  Commonwealth, 
who  never  know  the  degradation  of  the  lash.  I 
trust  there  is  no  teacher,  with  such  a  vacuum  of 
good  qualities  and  such  a  pleuum  of  bad  ones,  as 
to  create  the  necessity  for  indiscriminate  and  uni- 
versal flogging.  What,  then,  ought  teachers  to  do? 
I  answer,  they  should  aim  to  reach  those  higher 
and  higher  points  of  qualification,  which  shall 
enable  them  to  dispense  more  and  more  with  the 
necessity  of  punishment.  If  there  is  any  teacher 
so  low  in  the  scale  of  fitness  or  competency  as  to 
feel  obliged  to  punish  every  day,  he  should  strive 
to  prolong  the  interval  to  once  a  week.  If  any 
teacher  punishes  but  once  a  quarter,  he  should 
strive  to  punish  but  once  a  year.    If  any  one  dis- 


319 

graces  himself  and  human  nature,  by  punishing 
fifty  per  cent,  of  his  pupils,  he  should  either  leave 
the  school,  or  make  a  most  liberal  discount  from 
such  an  intolerable  per  centage.  If  any  one  pun- 
ishes ten  per  cent,  of  his  pupils,  he  should  strive 
to  reduce  the  number  to  five,  to  three,  to  one  per 
cent.,— and  then,  if  possible,  to  none  at  all.  If 
there  are  five  per  cent,  of  our  teachers  who  now 
keep  school  without  punishment,  this  number 
should  be  increased,  as  fast  as  possible,  to  ten  per 
cent.,  to  thirty,  to  sixty,  to  ninety  per  cent.*  That 
the  necessity  of  punishment,  so  vehemently  urged 
by  some  teachers, — and  which  is  urged  most 
vehemently  by  those  who  punish  most, — is  found, 
when  analyzed,  to  be  a  necessity  that  arises  from 
a  want  of  competency,  or  fitness,  in  the  teacher 
himself,  rather  than  from  any  perversity  or  un- 
governableness  in  the  scholars,  is  demonstrable 
from  this  fact  ; — that  certain  teachers  find  it 
necessary  to  punish  their  pupils  abundantly,  but, 
on  leaving  the  schools,  and  being  succeeded  by 
competent  persons,  the  necessity  of  punishment 
vanishes, — the  same  schools  being  governed  with- 
out it.  Instances  have  occurred  where  a  teacher 
who  could  not  govern  without  punishment,  has 
been  followed,  through  successive  schools,  by  one 
who  could, — thus  proving  that  the  alleged  neces- 
sity of  punishment  belonged  to  the  teacher  and 
not  to  the  schools.  Many  a  teacher  has  been 
turned  out  of  school,  because  he  could  not  govern 
without  punishment,  nor  even  with  it;  and  has 
been  succeeded,  the  next  week,  by  one  who  found 
no  occasion  to  use  it, — thus  affording  demonstra- 

*  There  are  now,  (1845,)  at  least  ten  to  one  of  our  teachers,  as  com- 
pared with  the  ntimber  in  1830,  (when  this  lecture  was  written,)  who 
Keep  .sctuiol  without  corporal  punishment.  And  in  uincty-ninc  towns 
in  every  hundred,  in  the  Slate,  the  flogging  of  girls,  even  where  it 
exists  at  all,  is  an  exceedingly  rare  event.  Since  1837,  the  number 
of  schools  in  the  State,  annually  broken  up  through  the  iucompeteacy 
of  the  teachers,  or  the  insubordination  of  the  scholars,  has  been  re-. 
duc«d  from  bclweeo  three  ttiil  four  huudred,  to  about  fifty. 


320 

tive  evidence,  that  the  necessity  of  punishment, 
in  those  cases,  was  not  in  human  nature,  but  only 
in  the  nature  of  Mr.  A.  B.  Such  is  the  result  to 
be  aimed  at,  longed  for,  toiled  for,  by  all.  In  the 
mean  t'.me,  I  blame  no  teacher  for  occasional 
punishmen'.,  nor  even  for  occasional  corporal  pun- 
ishment. But  what  seems  to  me  utterly  unjusti- 
fiable, is,  the  defence  of  punishment,  as  though 
it  were  a  good ;  or  the  palliation  of  it,  as  though 
it  were  not  a  great  evil.  What  seems  to  me  wor- 
thy of  condemnation,  is,  a  resort  to  punishment, 
because  it  may  seem  to  be  a  more  summary  and 
convenient  method  of  securing  obedience  and  dil- 
igence than  such  a  preparation  for  lessons  on  the 
part  of  the  teacher,  as  would  make  them  attrac- 
tive to  the  pupil ;  and  such  exhibitions  of  kindness 
and  interest,  as  would  win  the  affection  of  a  child, 
and  make  him  a  grateful  cooperator,  instead  of 
a  toiling  slave.  An  hour  spent  daily,  by  the 
ieacher,  in  the  preparation  of  lessons,  an  anecdote, 
'\  narrative,  an  illustrative  picture,  would  be  a  far 
more  powerful  awakener  of  dormant  or  sluggish 
minds,  than  the  rod.  A  private  interview  with  a 
neglectful  or  disorderly  pupil,  a  visit  to  his  family, 
some  little  attention  or  gratuity  bestowed  upon 
him, — any  mode,  in  fine,  evincing  a  genuine  inter- 
est in  his  welfare, — would  oftentimes  accomplish 
what  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  blows  to  do,  "  By 
mercy  and  truth,  iniquity  is  purged,"  says  Sol- 
omon; "and  by  the  fear  of  the  Lord," — not  by 
the  fear  of  man, — "  men  depart  from  evil." 

As  the  profession  of  teaching  rises  in  the  esti- 
mation of  the  public,  and  as  teachers  improve  in 
their  capacities  and  disposition  to  fulfil  the  sacred 
duties  of  their  office,  may  we  not  hope  for  a  grad- 
ual change  in  our  schools,  in  this  respect,  equally 
auspicious  to  them  and  to  society  ?  And  may  we 
not  expect  that  those  teachers  who  enjoy  the  most 
of  social  consideration  and  of  emolum^^n^    will 


321 

take  the  lead  in  diffusing  a  higher  spirit  and  in 
setting  a  nobler  example  ? 

Allow  me  here  to  say  a  word  respecting  a 
notion  which  I  sometimes  hear  advocated,  but 
which  seems  to  me  untenable.  As  an  argument 
against  corporal  punishment,  it  is  sometimes  urged, 
that  it  makes  the  body  a  vicarious  and  involuntary 
sufferer  for  the  offences  of  the  mind.  It  is  the 
mind,  say  these  metaphysicians,  which  wills, 
which  offends;  and  to  punish  the  body  for  the 
offences  of  the  mind,  is  as  unjust  as  to  punish 
John  for  the  sins  of  Peter.  But,  if  it  is  the  mind 
which  offends,  in  the  guilty  act,  is  it  not  also  the 
mind  which  suffers,  in  the  consequent  penalty? 
Take  away  the  mind, — that  is,  leave  the  body  a 
corpse,  and  would  its  dead  members  then  suffer? 
I  confess,  I  cannot  fathom  the  philosophy  of  this 
objection.  There  is,  however,  one  way  in  which 
it  can  be  answered,  even  on  the  principles  which 
it  assumes.  If  body  and  mind  are  to  be  consid- 
ered as  two,  so  as  to  exempt  the  former  from  suf- 
fering for  the  offences  of  the  latter ; — even  then, 
though  the  mind  may  be  the  original  offender,  yet 
the  body  becomes  a  particeps  criminis, — a  par- 
taker in  the  crime, — by  consenting  to  carry  the 
criminal  purpose  of  the  mind  into  execution ;  and 
it  may  therefore  be  lawfully  punished  as  an  acces- 
sort/  after  the  fad. 

As  to  modes  of  punishment,  not  much  needs  be 
said,  for  the  savageness  of  torture  formerly  prac- 
tised in  our  schools,  is  now  nearly  discontinued, 
though  it  is  still  retained  to  a  frightful  extent  in 
many  families.  When  I  was  at  the  bar,  I  knew 
a  father,  who  was  a  blacksmith  by  trade,  and 
who  used  to  punish  his  son  by  confining  him  in 
the  cellar  and  carrying  down  heated  nail-rods 
with  which  to  punch  and  goad  him.  Before  the 
boy  was  fifteen  years  old,  he  was  tried  for  a  cap- 
ital offence.     I  was  assigned  by  the  court  as  hw 


322 

vonnsel.  He  was  convicted  and  sentenced  to 
death,  though  the  penalty  was  commuted  to  im- 
prisonment, in  the  state-prison,  for  life.  Such  a 
fate  was  the  natural  result  of  such  an  education. 
If  one  or  the  other  must  have  gone  to  the  gallows, 
who  can  doubt  that  it  should  have  been  the  father, 
and  not  the  son  7  When  an  angry  man  chastises 
a  child,  it  is  not  punishment;  it  is  downright  fight- 
ing, and  so  much  the  more  criminal  and  disgrace- 
ful, as  the  person  assailed  is  a  child  and  not  a  man. 
Blows  should  never  be  inflicted  on  the  head .  We 
observe,  every  day,  bow  thin  the  skull  of  an  infant 
is.  We  can  see  the  pulse  beat,  on  the  top  of  its 
head.  The  cranium  does  not  ordinarily  become 
fixed  in  its  shape,  until  the  age  of  twenty-five  years, 
— sometimes,  not  until  a  much  later  period  of  life. 
Dr.  Griscom,  in  his  excellent  work,  entitled 
"Animal  Mechanism,"  says,  "a  vibration  of  the 
skull,  by  communicating  a  corresponding  motion 
to  the  brain,  is  more  dangerous  ofttimes  than  an 
instrument  forced  through  the  bones  and  piercing 
the  substance  of  the  brain."  And  again  ,*  "  Con- 
cussion of  the  brain  is  generally  more  productive 
of  immediately  serious  results,  than  a  puncture 
of  its  substance.  It  is  well  known,  in  fact,  that  a 
considerable  portion  of  it,  [the  brain,]  may  be 
removed  or  destroyed,  without  proving  fatal,  or 
even  injuring  the  mental  faculties ;  but  a  sudden 
jar  of  its  whole  substance  will  almost  certainly 
deprive  the  individual  of  all  sense  and  conscious- 
ness, and,  if  not  speedily  recovered  from,  must 
terminate  in  death."  This  form  of  punishment, 
too,  is  as  foolish  as  it  is  dangerous.  To  thwack  a 
child  over  the  head  because  he  does  not  get  his 
lesson,  is  about  as  wise  as  it  would  be  to  rap  a 
watch  with  a  hammer  because  it  does  not  keep 
good  time.  No  one,  could  he  but  see  the  delicate 
texture  of  the  brain, — that  organ  where  the  Deity 
has  brought  the  material  and  the  immaterial,  the 


323 

earthly  and  the  immortal  snhstances  together, 
making  each  atom  of  the  former  so  nice,  so  ethe- 
rial,  so  divinely-fashioned,  and  suspending  all, 
as  it  were,  particle  by  particle,  in  the  "  Dome  of 
Thought,"  so  that  they  might  leap,  with  lightning 
quickness,  at  the  command  of  the  all-pervading 
yet  invisible  soul ; — no  one,  I  say,  who  has  ever 
seen  this,  if  he  be  not  a  madman  or  a  fool,  will 
ever  again  strike  a  child  upon  the  head.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  the  intellects  of  thousands  of  children 
liave  been  impaired  for  life,  by  the  bloN^'^  which 
some  angry  parent  or  teacher  has  inflicted  upon 
the  head.  Nature,  foreseeing  that  the  brain  would 
be  exposed  to  accidents,  secured  it,  on  all  sides,  by 
the  hard  lK)nes  of  the  cranium ;  and,  to  conceal 
any  ruggedness  in  the  soHd  masonry,  she  caused 
a  silky  vegetation  to  spring  up  from  and  adorn 
it.  Had  she  foreseen  how  brutally  it  would  be 
assaulted  by  men,  would  she  not  rather  have  en- 
circled it  with  a  spherical  iron-fender,  or  made  it 
bristle,  all  over,  with  porcupine's  quills,  to  give  it 
a  defence  instead  of  an  ornament  l  Even  in  the 
British  army  and  navy,  where  whipping  has  been, 
for  frequency,  like  their  daily  bread,  certain  parts 
of  the  frame,  such  as  the  head  and  loins,  have 
been  held  sacred  from  the  instruments  of  torture. 
Neither  should  a  child  ever  be  subjected  to  any 
violent  motion  or  concussion,  such  as  seizing  him 
by  the  arm,  holding  him  out  at  arm's  length,  and 
shaking  him, — the  whole  weight  of  the  body 
being  suspended  by  a  single  ligament,  and  the 
strain  upon  that  being  greatly  increased  by  the 
jerking.  Most  of  us  have  experienced  the  shock 
which  even  a  slight  fall  may  give  to  the  system. 
When,  in  descending  a  flight  of  steps,  we  mistak- 
ingly  suppose  we  have  reached  the  bottom,  and 
so  step  forward  upon  the  air,  instead  of  the  floor, 
the  jar  to  the  whole  body  is  always  uncomfortable 
and  sometimes  serious  ;  but  how  much    more 


324 

severe  must  be  the  effect  upon  the  feebly-knitted 
frame  of  a  child,  when  a  strong  man  seizes  him, 
and  jerks  him  forwards  and  backwards,  as  a 
coachman  cracks  a  whip  ;  then  dashes  him  upon 
the  floor  feet  foremost,  shortening  his  dimensions, 
as  one  shuts  up  a  telescope ;  and  coils  him  and 
uncoils  him,  and  crimps  him  and  stretches  him 
smooth  again  I  I  have  seen  a  man  seize  two 
boys,  at  a  time,  in  school,  for  some  joint  mis- 
demeanor, and,  holding  them  by  the  back  of  the 
coat-collar,  make  them  "cAassee"  right  and  left, 
then  ^^  forward  and  buck  two^^  and,  at  last,  bring 
them  together  with  a  terrific  '■'•dos-a-dos^^''  until 
his  own  strength,  or  the  tailor's  stitching  gave 
way ;  and  do  it  all  with  as  much  zest  as  though 
it  were  an  exercise  in  gymnastics. 

Corporal  punishment  should  be  with  a  rod, 
rather  than  with  a  ferule,  and  below  the  loins 
or  upon  the  legs,  rather  than  upon  the  body  or 
hand. 

In  regard  to  the  extent  or  severity  of  punish- 
ment, it  is  obvious  that  it  must  be  a  reality,  and 
not  a  sham.  If  the  lightning  never  struck, 
nobody  would  be  afraid  of  the  thunder.  Yet  the 
opposite  extreme  is  to  be  sedulously  guarded 
against.  In  all  schools  that  are  rightly  governed, 
it  is  the  mortification  of  being  punished,  quite  as 
much  as  the  bodily  smart  or  tingling,  which 
causes  it  to  be  deprecated,  and  gives  it  efiicacy. 
If  the  common  standard  or  average  of  punishment 
is  fixed  low,  whatever  exceeds  that  amount,  will 
be  equally  as  formidable  as  though  the  average 
were  higher.  Besides,  if  the  penalty  for  moderate 
offences  be  very  severe,  what  shall  be  done  in  ag- 
gravated cases?  Where  stealing  a  shilling  is 
punishable  with  death,  and  murder  with  nothing 
more,  it  is,  virtually,  ofiering  a  premium  on 
murder.  The  most  disorderly  school  I  ever  saw, 
was  one  where  the  teacher  carried  a  ratan  in  his 


325 

hand,  all  the  time ;  and  even  while  the  company 
was  present,  there  was  scarcely  any  thing  done, 
except  giving  a  practical  synopsis  of  the  verb  to- 
whip.  A  universality  of  whipping  defeats  itself. 
Where  all  share  the  same  odious  fortune,  dis- 
grace attaches  to  none.  Like  the  inhabitants  of 
Botany  Bay,  all  being  rogues,  nobody  loses  caste. 
Shame  never  belongs  to  multitudes.  It  is  the 
separation  of  one  or  a  few  from  all  others,  and 
affixing  a  stigma  upon  them,  that  begets  shame. 

In  graduating  the  amount  of  punishment,  we 
should  regard  the  motive  from  wfiich  the  offence 
proceeded,  and  not  the  consequences  which  may 
have  been  produced  by  it.  In  the  government  of 
children,  people  are  prone  to  look  at  the  outward, 
external  consequences  of  the  wrongful  act,  and 
to  apportion  the  punishment  according  to  the 
mischief  done ; — for  a  small  mischief  punishing 
lightly,  for  a  serious  one,  severely.  This  is  a 
false  criterion.  An  act  merely  careless  may  set 
a  house  on  fire;  and  again,  an  attempt  to  burn  a 
house  may  fail,  through  the  merest  accident,  and 
do  no  injury.  The  true  rule,  in  meting  out 
punishment,  is,  to  disregard  the  external  conse- 
quences, to  look  to  the  intention  and  motive  from 
which  the  offence  emanated,  and  to  apportion  the 
penalty  to  the  wickedness  of  the  intent,  whether 
it  took  effect  or  failed.  It  is  the  condition  of  the 
mind  that  is  to  be  regarded.  If  that  is  wrong,  all 
is  wrong ;  if  that  is  right,  it  is  of  comparatively 
little  consequence  what  outward  effects  may 
have  followed.  Teach  children,  that  to  die  is  but 
a  small  calamity  ;  to  be  depraved,  a  great  one. 

One  word  more  an  to  the  extent  or  amount  of 
punishment.  Severe  punishments  are  usually 
incurred  by  the  violent  outbreak  of  some  passion 
or  propensity.  A  child  has  a  quarrelsome  dispo- 
sition, and  beats  a  schoolmate ;  or  he  has  been 
accustomed  to  place  all  pleasure  in  the  indulgence 
28 


326 

of  appetite,  and  steals  fruit  or  cakes ;  or  he  wishes 
to  conceal  a  fault,  and  lies.  In  these  cases,  he 
acts  under  the  impulse  of  an  appetite  or  pro- 
pensity, and  these  impulses  are  all  blind.  They 
act  instinctively.  Remove  the  temptation,  in 
these  cases, — that  is,  let  the  desired  object  be  at- 
tainable without  the  commission  of  the  offence, — 
and  the  offence  would  not  be  committed.  The 
offence  is  not  committed  for  its  own  sake,  but  for 
the  sake  of  the  gratification  or  immunity  to  be 
purchased  by  it.  Now,  I  have  no  doubt,  that 
when  the  temptation  is  not  present,  the  reason 
and  conscience  of  most  children  tell  them  plainly 
enough  that  the  indulgence  is  wrong.  When  the 
passions  are  asleep,  reason  and  conscience  affirm 
their  own  authority,  declare  their  own  rights,  and 
place  themselves  in  an  attitude  of  defence.  But, 
by  and  by,  the  insurgent  passion  returns  and 
demands  its  gratification ;  and  when  reason  and 
conscience  place  themselves  in  its  path,  it  rides 
them  down,  as,  heavy-armed  cavalry  ride  over 
unarmed  peasantry.  In  these  cases,  reason  and 
conscience  are  the  antagonists  of  passion;  but 
they  are  not  a  match  for  it,  and  are  trodden  down 
by  it.  Here,  if  all  other  means  fail,  punishment, 
that  is,  the  fear  of  punishment,  may  be  lawfully 
called  in,  as  an  ally  to  duty,  so  that  the  child's 
first  thought  shall  be  this : — However  much  I 
desire  such  or  such  a  pleasure,  I  must  incur  so 
much  pain  by  obtaining  it,  that,  on  the  whole,  it 
is  not  worth  what  it  will  cost.  Such  is  the  case 
in  ten  thousand  minds,  whether  of  children  or  of 
men, — Fear  fighting  Desire  ; — and  here  the  fear, 
— that  is,  the  amount  of  punishment  exciting  the 
fear, — should  be  strong  enough,  with  such  aid  as 
reason  and  conscience  may  contribute,  to  vanquish 
the  desire.  This  affords  a  rule  for  the  measure 
of  punishment.  All  beyond  this,  is  wantonness 
or  vindictiveness,  and  not  to  be  tolerated.     To 


327 

illustrate  what  I  mean,  by  an  anecdote  :  Just  as 
a  certain  school  was  closing,  one  afternoon,  a  boy 
named  John,  who  had  become  almost  crazy  with 
impatience,  and  in  whom  the  steam  of  discontent 
had  risen  almost  to  the  exploding  point,  whistled 
outright.  "John,"  said  the  teacher,  "was  it  you 
who  whistled?"  "  No,  sir,"  says  John.  "  Henry," 
says  the  teacher,  "  didn't  John  whistle  ?"  "  Yes, 
sir,"  says  Henry.  "John,"  says  the  teacher, 
"  how  dare  you  say  you  did  not  whistle?"  "  I 
didn't,"  says  John,  "  it  whistled  itself.^ ^  Now,  in 
this  case,  if  John  were  to  be  punished  at  all,  he 
should  only  be  punished  so  much  that  it  would 
not  whistle  itself,  the  next  time. 

As  to  the  question,  under  what  circumstances 
punishment  should  be  inflicted,  I  think,  in  the  first 
place,  it  should,  in  ordinary  cases,  be  private, — at 
recess,  or  in  another  apartment,  or  after  the  close 
of  the  school.  Punishment  is  often  braved  by 
audacious  natures,  and  its  effect  lost  upon  them 
by  its  publicity.  They  wish  to  sustain,  or  to  win 
a  reputation  for  hardiness  and  indomitableness  of 
spirit,  and  hence  they  will  bear  any  punishment,  if 
publicly  inflicted,  without  shrinking  or  flinching; 
— just  as  an  Indian  sings  when  he  is  tortured,  or 
as  some  steel-fibred  malefactors  walk  unconcern- 
edly up  the  gallows'  ladder,  as  though  they  were 
going  up  stairs  to  bed.  So  far  as  the  effect  upon 
other  pupils  is  concerned,  it  is  obvious  that  their 
imaginations  will  be  likely  to  exaggerate  an  un- 
known punishment  beyond  the  reality,  unless, 
indeed,  it  be  terribly  severe.  Under  actual  in- 
spection, punishment  would  have  its  limits  of 
suffering;  but  imagination  has  no  limits. 

Punishment  should  never  be  inflicted  without 
deep  solemnity  of  manner.  The  teacher  should 
exhibit  every  indication  that  he  suffers  more  pain 
in  giving,  than  its  object  does  in  receiving  it. 
Because  grown  persons  are  out  of  the  way  of 


328 

punishment,  they  are  prone  to  think  of  it  lightly, 
to  speak  of  it  lightly,  and  to  inflict  it  lightly.  Bnt 
it  is  a  solemn  dispensation,  and  should  be  treated 
with  corresponding  solemnity.  I  believe  a  finely- 
tempered  child  suffers  as  much,  by  being  kept 
from  his  playmates  after  school,  to  be  punished, 
as  a  high-spirited  man  would  suffer,  in  being 
taken  to  prison  from  family  and  friends.  How 
obvious  then  it  is,  that  punishment  should  never 
be  inflicted  in  a  passion, — unless,  indeed,  it  be  a 
passion  of  tears.  Angry  feelings  in  a  teacher 
beget  angry  feelings  in  a  pupil,  and  if  these  are 
repeated,  day  after  day,  they  will  at  last  rise  to 
obstinacy,  to  obduracy  and  incorrigibleness.  No 
man  can  conceive  the  difference  which  must  be 
produced  in  the  future  character  and  happiness 
of  children,  and  eventually,  upon  the  future  char- 
acter and  happiness  of  the  whole  community,  if, 
on  the  one  hand,  the  early  years  of  life  are  filled 
with  dissocial,  morose  and  revengeful  feelings,  or, 
on  the  other,  with  sentiments  of  tenderness  and 
affection.  I  will  not  cite  the  case  of  barbarous 
tribes,  because  they  are  an  extreme ;  but  whence 
did  the  old  Romans  derive  their  inexorableness 
and  impenetrability  of  heart  ?  They  rose  to  the 
highest  state  of  ancient  civilization,  and  yet  their 
national  employment  was  war ;  their  national  re- 
sources were  plunder,  and  their  national  glory 
consisted  in  unrighteous  victories,  won  over  un- 
offending nations.  Under  such  influences,  their 
hearts  became  more  impenetrable  than  the  iron 
mail  that  covered  ihem.  In  their  religion.  Mars 
received  ten  times  more  homage  than  Jupiter. 
They  prayed  and  sacrificed  to  the  latter,  just 
enough  to  retain  his  good  will,  but  the  former 
was  the  god  of  their  affections.  This  intense 
destructiveness  in  the  national  character,  was 
cultivated  by  their  exhibitions  of  fighting  wild 
beasts,  and  their  gladiatorial  contests.     One  of 


329 

these  spectacles  lasted  more  than  four  months; 
eleven  thousand  animals  of  dilFerent  kinds  were 
killed,  and  ten  thousand  gladiators  fought.  Think 
of  a  people  who  could  give  the  appellation  of 
*'  Games^^  to  these  blood-reeking  abominations. 
Every  person  who  manifests  cruelty  or  anger 
before  the  young,  does  all  he  can  to  fashion  their 
unformed  tempers  into  this  revolting  and  unchris- 
tian shape. 

Is  not  the  British  nation  celebrated,  the  world 
over,  for  the  aggressive  spirit  of  its  policy,  and, 
with  many  beautiful  exceptions,  for  the  unamiable 
character  of  its  people ;  and  is  it  not  in  the  schools 
of  Great  Britain  that  punishments  are  more  fre- 
quent and  more  severe  than  in  any  other  part  of 
Christendom  ?  I  know  it  is  said  that  this  severity 
in  the  discipline  of  children  is  accompanied  by 
great  hardihood  of  spirit  and  by  distinguished 
martial  bravery  in  men.  Look  into  British  facto- 
ries and  British  mines,  and  see  by  what  else  it  is 
accompanied ! 

Punishment  should  not  be  inflicted  in  haste,  nor 
summarily.  It  should  bear  every  mark  of  consid- 
eration, and  of  being  administered  from  the  moral 
compulsion  of  duty.  Its  effects  pervade  the  whole 
moral  nature  of  a  child.  By  its  application,  the 
disease  may  not  be  cured,  but  only  driven  in,  to 
break  out  with  increased  violence  at  another 
time,  or  in  another  place.  The  times  when  a 
punished  child  is  dismissed  or  sent  back  to  his 
seat,  are  among  the  most  decisive  epochs  in  his 
moral  history.  Often,  they  are  turning  points  in 
the  journey  of  life,  where,  for  good  or  tor  evil,  he 
leaves  one  path  and  enters  upon  another;  and 
though,  at  first,  their  divergency  may  be  slight, 
yet  their  terminations  may  be  as  far  asunder  as  the 
upper  from  the  nether  world.  Hence  the  neces- 
sity of  learning  the  condition  of  his  feelings  at 
those  times,  in  order  to  rectify  whatever  may  be 
28* 


330 

wrong  in  them.  I  confess  that  I  have  been 
amazed  and  overwhelmed,  to  see  a  teacher  spend 
an  hour  at  the  black-board,  explaining  arith- 
metical questions,  and  another  hour  on  the  read- 
ing or  grammar  lessons ;  and,  in  the  mean  time, 
as  though  it  were  only  some  interlude,  seize  a 
boy  by  the  collar,  drag  him  to  the  floor,  casti- 
gate him,  and  remand  him  to  his  seat, — the  whole 
process  not  occupying  two  minutes.  Such  labo- 
rious processes  for  the  intellect,  such  summary 
dealings  with  the  heart; — with  that  part  of  us, 
where  all  motives  reside,  whence  all  actions  pro- 
ceed, and  which  shall  grow  in  loftiness,  until  we 
become  in  moral  stature,  taller  than  archangels,  or 
arch-fiends !  But,  says  the  teacher,  in  defence  of 
his  extempore  inflictions,  I  have  no  time  for  your 
homilies  and  moralizings.  I  should  come  short 
of  my  daily  round  of  tasks  ;  I  must  skip  or  clip  my 
recitations,  did  I  spend  time  to  inquire  whether  the 
child  thought  himself  wronged  or  justly  dealt 
by ;  whether  he  would  look  backward  upon  the 
occasion  with  repentance,  or  forward  with  re- 
venge ;  whether  conscience  were  alive  or  dead  in 
his  breast.  But,  for  man's  sake  and  for  Heaven's 
sake,  let  me  ask,  what  was  time  made  for,  if  not 
for  these  moral  uses  7 — To  what  holier  purpose 
can  time  be  appropriated,  than,  when  a  child  gets 
lost  in  errorj  to  set  his  face  towards  the  right 
point  of  the  moral  compass  before  he  is  started  off" 
again.  The  glass  of  time  contains  no  sands  more 
sacred  than  those  which  run  during  these  precious 
moments.  When  I  look  back  to  the  playmates 
of  my  childhood  ;  when  I  remember  the  acquaint- 
ance which  I  formed  with  nine  college  classes; 
when  I  cast  my  eye  over  the  circles  of  men  with 
whom  professional  and  public  duties  made  me 
conversant;  I  find  amongst  all  these  examples, 
that,  for  one  man  who  has  been  ruined  for  want  of 
intellect  or  attainment,  hundreds  have  perished 


331 

for  want  of  morals.  And  yet,  with  this  dispro- 
portion between  the  causes  of  human  ruin,  we 
go  on,  bestowing  at  least  a  hundred  times  more 
care  and  pains  and  cost  in  the  education  of  the 
intellect,  than  in  the  cultivation  of  the  moral 
sentiments,  and  in  the  establishment  of  moral 
principles.  From  year  to  year,  we  pursue  the 
same  course  of  navigation,  with  all  these  treasure- 
laden  vessels  going  down  to  destruction  around 
us  and  before  us,  when,  if  the  ocean  in  which 
they  are  sunk,  were  not  fathomless  and  bottom- 
less, the  wrecks,  ere  this,  would  have  filled  it 
solid  to  the  surface. 

Let  me  adjure  teachers  to  reconsider  this  whole 
subject ;  to  apportion  anew  the  appeals  to  the 
physical  and  to  the  moral  nature  of  children ; 
and,  if  the  practice  anywhere  still  exists  of  punish- 
ing by  sections  or  platoons,  without  inquiry  and 
without  counsel,  to  abolish  it,  instantaneously  and 
forever. 

A  child  may  surrender  to  fear,  without  sur- 
rendering to  principle.  But  it  is  the  surrender  to 
principle  only  which  has  any  permanent  value. 
The  surrender  of  a  child  to  fear,  is  like  a  sur- 
render of  our  purse  to  a  highwayman,  whom,  that 
very  instant,  we  would  shoot  if  we  could.  Hence, 
after  the  outward  demonstrations  of  the  inward 
evil  have  been  repressed,  let  not  teacher  or 
parent  think  that  his  labor  is  done.  It  is  only 
begun.  In  a  moral  sense,  the  child  is  still  a  vale- 
tudinarian. Often,  the  very  process  which  quells 
the  rage  of  the  disease,  weakens  the  constitution 
of  the  patient,  and  special  pains  become  so  much 
the  more  necessary  to  reestablish  health.  Let  the 
cordial  of  love  and  consolation  be  administered 
to  the  wounded  spirit.  This  is  often  the  most 
delicate,  always  the  most  important  part  of  the 
process.  I  had  almost  said,  better  die  of  the  dis- 
ease than  to  expel  it  by  remedies,  which,  proving 


332 

fatal  to  the  constitution,  entail  a  daily  torture 
upon  all  subsequent  life.  The  external  manifest- 
ation,— the  overt  acts, — of  a  passion,  may  be 
stifled,  while  the  passion  itself  lives  on,  and 
broods  over  its  viper-offspring  in  the  silent  breast. 
Instead  of  a  solemn  resolve  against  further  in- 
dulgence, it  may  be  nursing  its  strength  in  secrecy 
for  a  postponed  gratification.  It  may  have  with- 
drawn from  outward  view,  but  be  lying  in  ambush, 
and  watching  the  hour  when  it  can  securely  leap 
upon  its  victim.  Now,  no  fury  of  external  out- 
break is  so  much  to  be  dreaded  and  deprecated, 
as  these  silent  machinations,  or  foretastes  of  re- 
venge. It  is,  therefore,  no  paradox  to  say,  that 
order  and  silence  and  regularity  may  be  main- 
tained, in  a  school,  by  a  course  of  discipline, 
which,  while  it  seems  to  make  a  good  school, 
shall,  in  reality,  be  a  skilfully  arranged  process 
for  making  bad  men.  The  feelings,  with  which 
the  child  leaves  the  bar  and  the  tribunal, — the 
course  which  is  given  to  his  future  feelings  by 
the  execution  of  the  sentence  ; — this,  as  it  regards 
the  moral  welfare  of  the  child,  is  the  whole  ; — all 
else  is  as  nothing,  compared  with  it.  His  moral 
nature  has  been  fused  in  the  fires  of  shame  and 
pain,  and  the  question  is,  in  what  shapes,  of  good 
or  of  evil,  it  shall  harden  as  it  cools.  Every  body 
is  familiar  with  the  story  of  Dr.  Bowditch,  who 
came  near  to  being  inhumanly  punished  for  an 
alleged  falsehood,  because  he  said  he  had  solved 
an  arithmetical  question,  whose  solution  required 
more  talent  than  his  tyrannical  master  supposed 
him  to  possess.  Late  in  life,  that  great  man  spoke 
of  the  event  in  a  manner  which  showed  that, 
after  the  lapse  of  half  a  century,  the  feeling  of 
righteous  indignation  towards  the  teacher,  was 
still  vivid  in  his  breast.  How  often  do  we  meet 
men,  Avho  never  speak  of  some  former  teacher  of 
theirs,  without  a  contraction  of  the  whole  mus- 


333 

cular  system ; — without  such  involuntary  motions 
as  would  indicate  that  they  were  crushing  a  viper 
in  their  hands,  and  had  the  head  of  a  serpent 
under  their  heel !  Punishment  inflicted  by  such 
teachers,  may  have  prevented  whispering  in 
school,  but  at  the  expense  of  a  thousand  muttered 
curses  afterwards.  Those  whose  art  it  is  to  color 
cloths,  have  a  time  and  a  process  for  what  they 
call  setting  the  color.  The  hour  of  punishment  is 
the  time,  when,  perhaps  more  than  at  any  other 
time,  the  complexion  of  the  moral  character  is  set ; 
— and  oh !  how  often  it  is  dyed  to  that  hue  of 
immitigable  blackness,  which  can  neither  be 
purged  nor  washed  away  by  the  refiner's  fire  or 
the  fuller's  soap ! 

If  angry  feelings  survive  punishment,  they  can 
rarely  be  concealed  from  a  discerning  eye.  They 
will  be  betrayed  by  the  looks,  and,  especially,  by 
the  tones  of  the  voice.  The  child  will  not  have 
the  same  freedom,  or  ease  of  manner,  as  before, 
nor  the  same  zest  for  accustomed  pleasures.  His 
eye  will  droop,  or  turn  away,  when  it  meets  that 
of  the  teacher,  or  else  it  will  be  fixed  upon  him, 
with  a  look  of  defiance.  Perhaps  he  will  be  even 
more  punctilious  in  the  discharge  of  duties,  as  one 
of  the  concealments  for  the  revenge  he  is  nourish- 
ing within.  But  that  subtlest  organ,  the  voice, 
will  be  the  great  index.  Any  of  these  indications 
should  admonish  the  teacher  that  the  realm  within 
is  not  yet  wholly  at  peace,  and  that  it  needs  an- 
other visitation  from  the  spirit  of  duty  to  calm  its 
troubled  elements.  And  well  may  the  teacher 
afford  to  spend  time  and  strength  for  such  an  ob- 
ject ;  for,  if  he  can  effect  a  thorough  reformation, 
by  a  change  of  view  or  by  the  inspiration  of  a 
new  purpose,  it  will  probably  be  a  reformation, 
once  tor  all, — a  repentance  not  to  be  repented  of. 

In  the  management  of  children,  we  often  ag- 
gravate  the  obstinacy   and   incorrigiblcness   we 


334 

lament,  by  perpetually  rebuking  and  punishing 
a  bad  tendency,  instead  of  expending  the  same 
amount  of  time  and  means  for  inspiring  the  proper 
countervailing  motives.  The  relative  strength  of 
any  one  faculty  is  as  certainly  reduced  by  increas- 
ing the  strength  of  its  antagonist  faculties,  as  by 
reducing  its  own.  Remove  by  introducing.  Nour- 
ish the  good  plant,  until  it  overshadows  the  bad 
one,  and  intercepts  its  sunshine  and  absorbs  its 
nutriment.  One  of  the  most  efficient  means  of 
that  revolution  which  has  lately  taken  place,  in 
the  cure  of  the  insane,  consists  in  the  substitution 
of  new  trains  of  thoughts  and  feelings,  until  the 
former  ones  die  out.  While  the  old  physicians 
strove  to  expel  the  currents  of  insane  thought 
and  emotion,  by  scourgings,  and  drownings,  and 
confinements  in  dungeons,  they  tried  and  tortured 
in  vain.  They  only  aggravated  the  maladies  they 
were  appointed  to  heal.  But  from  the  day  that 
they  began  to  open  new  sources  of  thought  and 
feeling  in  the  minds  of  their  patients, — from  that 
day,  a  power  to  cast  out  the  evil  spirits  of  insan- 
ity was  given  them.  So,  in  the  training  of  a 
child,  it  is  possible  to  supplant  vicious  images  and 
vicious  desires,  by  substituting  virtuous  images 
and  virtuous  desires ;  but  it  is  not  possible  to  cre- 
ate a  void  by  merely  removing  the  vicious  ones. 
Another  rule  is  to  be  observed  in  administer- 
ing all  rebukes  and  all  punishments.  Always 
connect  the  rebuke  or  the  punishment  with  the 
wrong  that  incurs  it,  and  not  with  the  correlative 
right.  Keep  the  idea  of  the  offence  before  the 
child's  mind,  as  the  cause  of  his  suffering.  If 
you  correct  a  boy  for  not  coming  to  school  half  an 
hour  earlier,  he  wishes  the  school  was  in  the  Red 
Sea,  because,  by  the  law  of  mental  association,  the 
punishment  is  involuntarily  connected  with  the 
school.  But  correct  him  for  truancy,  in  stopping 
to  play  at  marbles,  and  the  next  time  he  is  tempted 


335 

to  stop  and  play,  the  very  sight  of  the  marbles,  by 
the  law  of  association,  will  make  his  skin  itch 
and  tingle.  If  a  boy  is  convicted  of  falsehood, 
and  the  teacher,  as  he  lays  on  the  smart,  says, 
"  I  '11  teach  you  how  to  speak  the  truth,"  the  boy 
will  hate  the  very  idea  of  truth,  for  the  bad  com- 
pany it  comes  in.  But  if  the  teacher,  in  adminis- 
tering the  penalty,  explains  that  falsehood  and 
punishment  are  Siamese  twins,  and  must  go  to- 
gether, then,  when  falsehood  comes  smiling  and 
blandishing  along  to  tempt  its  victim  again,  he 
will  see  the  terrific  form  of  pain  standing  by  its 
side.  Thus  the  association  of  pain  should  always 
be  connected  with  the  wrong  done,  and  never 
with  the  duty  omitted.  It  thus  becomes  uncon- 
sciously an  auxiliary  for  the  right.  So,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  rewards  of  virtue  should  be  always 
associated  with  the  virtuous  conduct,  as  though 
the  former  grew  naturally  from  the  latter.  Every 
person,  at  all  conversant  with  the  forum  or  the 
senate,  knows  that  one  of  the  great  secrets  of  an 
orator's  power  consists  in  his  skilful  management 
of  the  involuntary  associations.  If  this  is  an  effi- 
cient instrument  in  swaying  the  minds  of  men, 
how  much  more  so  in  controlling  children  ! 

I  cannot  close  these  remarks,  without  saying  a 
word  upon  the  general  duty  of  parents,  whose  chil- 
dren are  punished  at  school.  That  duty  is  to  espouse 
the  side  of  the  teacher,  to  vindicate  his  conduct, 
and,  especially,  to  abstain  from  all  complaint 
against  him  in  any  place  where  it  may  come  to 
the  child's  ear.  They  should  have  an  interview 
with  the  child  himself  on  the  subject ;  they  should 
explain  the  nature  of  the  misconduct  that  incurred 
the  punishment,  and  they  should  show  him  that 
they,  the  parents,  suffer  shame  and  mortification, 
on  his  account,  sharper  than  any  pain  of  chas- 
tisement can  be.  They  should  strive  to  close  any 
breach  of  alienation  between  pupil  and  teacher, 


336 

which  the  punishment  may  have  caused.  If  the 
parent  has  reason  to  suppose  that  the  punishment 
was  too  severe,  or  that  the  mode  or  spirit  of  in- 
flicting it  was  improper,  let  him  seek  a  private 
interview  with  the  teacher,  frankly  state  his  ap- 
prehensions, and  then,  like  an  honest  and  impar- 
tial man,  hearken  to  the  defence  that  may  be 
made.  The  punishment  of  children  at  school 
furnishes  the  very  occasions  when  that  love  of 
offspring,  which  Heaven,  for  the  wisest  purposes, 
has  planted  in  every  parental  breast,  is  liable  to 
become  injurious  and  excessive ;  and  when,  there- 
fore, it  most  needs  the  tiontrol  of  reason.  Only  in 
cases  made  flagrant  by  their  excess,  or  their  fre- 
quency, should  the  conduct  of  the  teacher  receive 
public  animadversion. 

I  knew  a  family,  in  which  there  were  five 
children,  who  received  almost  all  the  education 
they  ever  had,  in  the  district  school  of  an  obscure 
country  town.  It  was  the  father's  custom,  during 
the  first  week  of  the  winter's  school,  to  invite  the 
master  to  dine  with  him;  and  when  the  whole 
family  were  gathered  around  the  table,  to  make 
the  importance  of  the  school,  the  necessity  of 
good  order  and  obedience  in  it,  with  other  kindred 
topics,  the  subject  of  conversation ;  and  then,  in 
the  presence  of  the  children,  to  say,  as  it  were 
incidentally,  that  he  trusted  they  would  all  behave 
well ;  thart  they  knew  no  desire  was  so  near  his 
heart  as  their  welfare;  but  that,  if  they  justly 
incurred  any  punishment  at  school,  he  should 
repeat  it  at  home,  because  he  should  consider  an 
offence  committed  in  school  as  an  offence  against 
himsel]^  as  well  as  against  the  teacher.  One  of 
the  sons, — a  boy  of  such  high,  sanguineous  tem- 
perament that  his  feelings  were  subject  to  a  sort 
of  spontaneous  combustion, — one  day  drew  down 
punishment  upon  himself  for  a  practical  joke, — 
which,  if  the  wit  of  it  had  been  an  atonement, 


337 

instead  of  an  aggravation,  would  have  been 
expiated  in  the  commission  ;— and  the  fact  being 
known  at  home,  by  the  very  solemnity  of  the 
children's  looks,  the  father  inquired  into  the  cir- 
cumstances, and,  finding  the  punishment  to  have 
been  well  merited,  that  very  night,  he  laid  upon 
the  boy's  back,  what  the  learned  would  call  a/oc 
simile,  or  dupliccUe  original  of  the  stripes;  and 
there  ended  the  chapter  of  school  punishments,  in 
that  family,  forever.  Not  another  child,  ever  after- 
wards, got  sting  or  tingle,  at  school;  and  this, 
happening  in  the  old-fashioned  times,  when  the 
mischievous  system  of  emulation  bore  sway,  the 
children  of  that  family,  year  after  year,  swept 
away  all  the  prizes,  and  nobody  ever  thought  of 
asking  who  were  at  the  heads  of  the  classes. 

I  would  conclude  with  this  summary  of  what 
has  been  said : — that,  in  the  present  state  of  so- 
ciety, and  with  our  present  inexperienced  and 
untrained  corps  of  teachers,  punishment,  and  even 
corporal  punishment,  cannot  be  dispensed  with, 
by  all  teachers,  in  all  schools,  and  with  regard  to 
all  scholars;  that,  where  a  school  is  well  con- 
ducted, the  minimum  of  punishment  shows  the 
maximum  of  qualifications;  that  the  office  of 
punishment  is  solely  to  restrain  transgressors, 
until  other  and  higher  motives  can  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  them,  and,  therefore,  that  the  great 
and  paramount  duty  of  the  teacher,  in  all  cases, 
is  to  regard,  as  all-essential,  the  state  of  mind  into 
which  a  child  is  brought  by  the  punishment,  and 
in  which  he  is  left  after  it, — the  current  of 
thought  and  feeling  introduced  being  in  every 
respect  as  important  as  that  which  is  turned 
away ;  that,  as  the  object  of  school  is  to  prepare 
for  the  duties  of  after-life,  it  follows  that  the 
school  is  made  for  the  world,  and  not  the  world 
for  the  school;  and  hence,  however  much  any 
course  may  seem  to  promote  the  present  good 
29 


338 

appearance  or  intellectual  advancement  of  ihe 
school,  yet,  if  it  tends  to  defeat  the  welfare  of  the 
future  men  and  women,  now  composing  the  school, 
its  adoption  is  shortsighted  and  suicidal;  and 
finally,  that  punishment  of  no  kind  is  ever  inflicted 
in  the  right  spirit,  or  is  likely  to  be  inflicted  in  the 
right  measure,  or  with  the  right  results,  unless  it 
is  as  painful  to  him  who  imposes  as  to  him  who 
receives  it.  Let  these  truths  be  regarded,  and 
Christian  teachers  and  parents,  in  the  few  cases  in 
which  they  will  be  called  upon  to  administer 
pain,  will  do  it  with  the  noble  feelings  that 
animated  the  pagan  executioner,  who  gave,  as 
he  was  commanded,  the  cup  of  poison  to  Socrates, 
but  wept  as  he  gave  it. 

"  Oh,  woe  to  those  who  trample  on  the  mind, 
That  deathless  thing !    They  know  not  what  they  do. 
Nor  what  they  deal  with.    Man,  perchance,  may  bind 
The  flower  his  step  hath  bruised ;  or  light  anew 
The  torch  he  quenches ;  or  to  music  wind 
Again  the  lyre-string  from  his  touch  that  flew  ; — 
But  for  the  soul,  oh,  tremble,  and  beware 
To  lay  rude  hands  upon  God's  mysteries  there !  ** 


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SEMESTER  .PAN 


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DEC  16 '987 


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SIIRIFfTTOtf^ft'i 


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